Mob Mentality
by xoxArtemisSalvatoreBennettxox
Summary: Damon wants Bonnie as his mistress for collateral. Bonnie wants to destroy the mafia from the inside out. But everybody Lies
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I know that I really shouldn't be starting ANOTHER story, but I got this sudden burst of inspiration! **

**Enjoy and review**

I felt so cold.

You'd think that in my twenty-one years on this earth—in this family—that I would be able to get used to seeing death all around me.

Not likely.

This was the first time that I have ever been exposed to something so heinous. I watched as they killed her… in front of me. Those cold-blooded, heartless, murderers... Disgust! That's all I feel for them. And one day, I am going to have my revenge.

I watched as they lowered her body into the cold ground; the weather, matching my mood. Today was not a happy occasion. My mother was dead. And it felt like no one but me gave a damn. At this time, I was nine years old. I knew about my father's dealings; I was exposed to it at a very young age, and he never stopped. It was almost as he was trying to groom me to take over the 'business'. My mom, kept me from going down that road, and no matter how much my father tried to teach me the rules of the trade, I knew that I wasn't going to succumb like a good little girl.

Liam Bennett Davenport is a household name—one that shouldn't be. He deals with illegal drugs, gambling, and even sex trafficking. He's a sick bastard, yes, but he is also the sick bastard who helped give me life. I'm disgusted at the thought of being a byproduct of one of his conquests.

That's right… they were never married. He got her drunk, had sex, and she maintained the title of his mistress. Though I love her, I would never find myself in the same position as she was in. Never. Not if I had anything to say about it.

I lifted my eyes from the dirt-covered gravesite and looked across the cemetery. Staring back at me was a young boy, a few years older than me, dressed head to toe in black—his ice blue eyes staring back at me emotionlessly. Next to him was a man who looked to be the same age as my father. Just like the young boy next to me, he was staring at me, his eyes glinting with malice and evil. Cold shudders went down my back.

Little did I know, those two were going to be permanent fixtures in my life.

_Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than on which it is poured._

It had been several months since it happened, and I still had nightmares. In each waking moment, I could hear his voice laughing at me and taunting me. I could still smell his aftershave and cologne. I could still feel the stubble from his face as it pressed against mine. I felt like it was permanently ingrained into my skin.

Everything from that night from twelve years ago was still tattooed in my brain. I could still feel his hot breath on my skin; the feel of his calloused hand on my upper arms, bruising my skin.

But most of all… I remembered when he killed me.

My dad tried to kill me when I refused to submit to his wishes. He wanted to use me as collateral for his stupid pact with the Salvatore Clan. I tried to get away. I tried to say no, but then I felt the impact of his fist on my face.

Slowly, I lifted my hand to my face and felt the blood pulsating beneath my skin.

"_Make yourself presentable."_ He said. My position was not to speak, only to speak when spoken to. I was 'betrothed' to the eldest Salvatore brother, Second in Command of the Salvatore mafia. Maybe betrothed wasn't the right word… more like 'mistress.'

"_Liam," Damon began, "leave me and your lovely daughter to it." _

_That was the first time in my life, that I've ever seen Liam back down to anyone, especially a man younger than him. _

_After Liam and Giuseppe cleared the room, Damon turned to me and began circling me like a vulture that discovered his meal. _

"_What do you want?" I seethed. _

"_Isn't it obvious, Bon-nie," he drawled, "you."_

"_Why?" I asked immediately. _

"_I've known that I wanted you since the day of your mother's funeral." _

"_But you were—"_

"—_Eleven at the time. Your point being? I remember seeing this small, fragile, young girl who needed protecting."_

"_And you figured that you were the one to do it?"_

"_It's in the name," he said coquettishly. At my confused look, he further explained, "Salvatore translates to savior. So now that we've gotten the small talk out of the way… let's seal the deal."_

_And before I could ask him what he meant by that, he grabbed my forearms and pressed me against the wall and covered my mouth with his own._

That was the day that I knew that I hated Damon Salvatore.


	2. I Spy

It had been about a month since I moved into the Salvatore manor. No one paid me any and I managed to stay out of their way. Unfortunately, everyone knew who I was and what I was here for. The title of 'Mistress' meant that I was busy screwing Damon's brains out. Though that's what everybody thought, they did not voice their opinions aloud for fear of what consequences could happen to them if Damon found out about their… not-so-kosher thoughts about our 'activities'. If those nosy bastards knew a damn thing, they'd realize that Damon and I are not getting it on. Not now, not ever. I needed to come up with a plan to destroy the Salvatore and the Davenports and everyone in their inner circle. They were going down. The mafia has done nothing but destroy my life, and my family.

Today I needed to figure out a way to get out of here without anyone noticing. First, I didn't think it was a big deal. I figured that I could go anywhere I pleased at anytime. Wrong. I basically had to ask _permission_ to even take a shit. I couldn't go anywhere without an escort, hence being cooped up in this manor for the last month of my life. The only positive thing that came from this was that this past month gave me time to plan. After watching _Colombiana _a million and one times, I figured that I could accomplish the same. Little did my father know, I was well trained by my friend Meredith, aka my partner in crime. She's an assassin. And she wanted vengeance. The mafia destroyed her life as well. Someone (Liam) put a hit on her family… She came home one day to find blood splattered walls and her parents dead.

We met when she was working for my father. Ironic, isn't it? Well, she dropped her old name—Sulez—to something less obvious—Fell. One night I came across her, gun in hand standing over the dead body as one of my father's associates. She thought that she had to kill me, and the last thing she expected to hear from me was that I wanted in. Since then, we've trained and soon after, the student became the master.

Now here I was, in the Salvatore manor's kitchen making chicken quesadillas. I needed some time to plan my escape. There's no way Damon was just going to allow me to go, so I took matters into my own hands. Before I left my house to come to this hellhole, I swiped some of Liam's experimental sleeping pills from his cabinet and tucked them away into my luggage and replaced those pills with Viagra. Who knows, 'The Don' might be having trouble performing. Now all I had to do was sprinkle some of this over the food and Mr. Salvatore will be out faster than he could say, 'sex.'

Just then, the man-child in question swaggered into the kitchen. I didn't acknowledge him and I could tell that it irked him. Damon was so used to people being at his beck and call constantly, and for once in his life someone wasn't scrambling to appeal to him. Especially, since that someone was his mistress. Because of the title that I held, he figured that I was going to be some sort of obedient, brain dead, slut whose mission was to satisfy 'Daddy'.

Bullshit.

"You do realize that we have maids to do the cooking so you don't have to?" he commented in a snarky manner.

"Your point? I like to cook," I said in return. Damon said nothing; instead he walked over to me and wrapped his lean arms around my waist. "You might want to remove your arms from my waist before you end up pulling back two stubs."

"Temper, temper, my sweet Bon-Bon," he said as he tapped my nose with his index finger.

"What did we say about the touching?" I hissed as I grabbed the finger and pulled it backwards so much so that it began to hurt the big bad Damon Salvatore.

"You're my mistress, I can touch you whenever I want."

"Looks like someone has some problems with the word, 'no.' and there is no us. There was only a trade. You can kiss my ass." I said as I turned back to my dish and sprinkled some 'spices' over the chicken.

He couldn't let it go, he placed his hand on my arm and spun me around to face him.

"Bonnie, Bonnie, Bonnie… so naïve. When your father and I made that trade, that means that I own you."

"I'm not a possession. You _can't_ own me."

"Oh, but I do," he continued with a smirk, "And as far as an us, and there will be an us, we'll take things slow."

"You're an ass," I said through gritted teeth as I turned back to my quesadilla and transferred it to my plate.

"I've been called worse."

"I'll bet." I moved away from him and went to the counter. I knew that Damon was going to continue to push my buttons and try to invade my personal space. It was only a matter of time before he tried eating my food.

"Contrary to one's self -involved world view, I do have goals." That gained my attention.

"Really?"

"Yeah, as of right now, one of my goals is to get you into bed." And then it fizzed out. I thought there was more to Damon Salvatore, but there was just an egotistical son of a bitch.

"You want a goal? Take up soccer."

"No thanks, I hate getting sweaty for no reason. Well, unless I had a good workout partner." He said suggestively as he made a play for the quesadilla and shoved it down his throat in seconds.

It was only a matter of time…. Talk about being naïve.

"You know, this is really good," he said with a mouth full of food.

"Thanks. But you're still an idiot," I retorted. He chuckled before he stopped abruptly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing… My head, I just got a really bad headache," he said before he collapsed. With my quick reflexes, I grabbed him and hauled him into the lounge room. Once in there, I poured a glass of scotch and placed it beside him in order to give the appearance of him passing out from the alcohol before I ran up to my room.

On the second level of the house was when I collided with the other Salvatore brother, Stefan.

"Where are you going?" he chuckled, "You look like your ass is on fire." I wrenched myself form his grip and took a step back.

"Not that it's any of your business but I have to pee and the only bathroom that I know is the one attached to my room. So now, if you'll excuse me…" I said as I walked around him and towards my bedroom. "Oh, and before I forget, your brother is passed out on the couch in the living room. I think he had too much to drink."

"Noted," he said before he walked away.

Making sure that he was completely out of sight, I rushed to my room and grabbed my cellphone before I made my way to the bathroom. Once in there, I turned the shower on and called Meredith.

_"Go,"_ the voice said from the other side.

"He's out. Give me half an hour before I get there. This place has high security, so high that I'm surprised that I didn't find any hidden cameras in my bathroom."

_"Okay, I have some new goodies for you to sample. By the way, I have a friend that will be picking you up from the back of the manor. Don't be alarmed,"_ Meredith said.

"Can't wait," I replied before I hung up the phone and continued getting ready. Walking out of the bathroom, I wore a pair of black jeans and a white wife beater with boots. I swept my hair in a high ponytail, and threw on a pair of fingerless gloves. I pulled on a black backpack and grabbed an extra pair of sheets from the linen closet.

When I first got here, I checked my scanner that Meredith gave me to check for hidden cameras. Low and behold, when I got there I found about twenty. They were a bunch of perverts I found some in my bathroom, like a potty cam. Gross. I hooked the cameras to my laptop and rewired them so they were on a time loop and only showed certain images of me. I also worked it so that whenever I left the room but was still in the house, it would show an empty room.

In just a few clicks, the image came up and I was ready to go. I hid my laptop and tied the sheets to the canopy bed and tossed the rest of it out of the window. Racing back to my closet, I pulled out my harness and the clip that went along with it and hooked myself up to the sheets. Slowly, I climbed out of the window and began to scale the side of the building. Quickly, I ripped the sheet so that there was no evidence that I had snuck out of this prison. After I made sure that the sheets were completely torn down, I stripped myself of the harness and hid them in the bushes.

I surveyed the area, making sure that there were no guards wandering around before I made my way to the back end of the house. I saw a car in the distance and made my way towards the wrought iron fence and quickly climbed it and fell onto the other side with the gracefulness of a cat.

I sprinted towards the Camaro and yanked the door open to find one of the Salvatore lackeys in the driver's seat.

"Need a ride, Miss Davenport?"

_**A/N: Duh, duh, duh! Had to leave a cliffhanger! I'm glad that you guys enjoy the story. I hope there are no grammatical errors! Peace & love! **_

_**PS. Feel free to PM me or comment if you have any ideas of what you'd like to see!**_


	3. Lies My Parents Told Me

"Alaric?" I gasped.

Alaric Saltzman was Damon's right-hand man. His confidant. And now here he was, in his flashy viper grinning at me through the passenger side window. Damn. Damon probably sent him to be on my ass or be my bodyguard or something. I was so screwed. In fact, he was probably out here just to drag me back to hell.

"Miss Davenport," he continued smiling.

"Bennett," I said immediately, "and I was just taking a walk," I finished lamely.

"A walk? At night? After you climbed out of your window?" He said disbelievingly.

"The proper term is 'scaled.' And since I'm the mistress I think that I have the ability to wander the grounds whenever I want." I watched as Alaric quirked his brow and cocked his head to the side before answering.

"You honestly expect me to believe that?"

"Well, no. Not really," I sighed. "Fine," I said as I opened the door to his car and climbed in. "Take me back to hell."

"Actually, I thought that I was supposed to be escorting you to Meredith's."

What the hell?

"You're Meredith's friend?" I all but yelled as Alaric pulled away from the curb and down the street.

"I'd like to think of myself more as her fiancée, but yeah, I'm supposed to be escorting you tonight, Miss Bennett. "

"Call me Bonnie. But wait, aren't you Damon's friend? Like his BEST friend? Why are you plotting with Meredith to take him down?"

Alaric was silent for a moment. The pensive look on his face spoke all the words that his mouth didn't. He was Damon's friend, but the life that came with be linked to him was less than stellar. Bad things happen when you're associated with someone by the last name, 'Salvatore.'

"He killed my wife a couple of years back," he said, startling me out of my reverie.

"He did what?" I gasped. I had always known that Damon was a coldblooded killer, but to think that he killed his friend's wife… was inexplicable.

"My wife, Isobel, she was tied with some bad decisions in the past. Unfortunately, those bad decisions caught up with her… and they came back to her with a vengeance. Isobel was hooked on drugs, she found a guy that knew a guy who knew the Salvatores and… lets just say; things spiraled out of control. One night I came home and saw Damon standing over her cold, dead body and he told me that if I didn't help repay my wife's debt, then I would suffer the same fate as her."

Alaric had my full attention. So many terrible things had happened to this man because of the Salvatores, so we could relate to one another. The Salvatores do nothing but take and destroy and it doesn't matter who they hurt in the process. I knew that they were capable of such heinous acts, but when I hear about other peoples' misfortunes when it comes to them, it makes what I have to do seem more important. When I kill Giuseppe Salvatore, everyone's pain will end with him. Anyone who gets in my way will pay dearly.

"So, how did you and Meredith meet?"

He chuckled when I mentioned her name; a loving chuckle that you get when you're thinking of the one you love. I remember my mother and father had that kind of relationship. It's a vague memory, but a memory nonetheless. Then he became power hungry and destroyed our family. My mother had to suffer for his misdeeds, because she loved him.

"We met at a bar. Got completely trashed. Hooked up in her apartment. The next morning I woke up and stumbled upon her 'secret room'," he air quoted, "and she knocked me out."

"Sounds like Meredith."

"Yeah, then she tied me to a chair and questioned me like a criminal and I told her that I wanted to help take the Salvatores down. Now here we are."

"Not your typical love story," I murmured.

"But a love story, nonetheless," he countered, "We're here."

I looked up at the studio apartment in front of me. As far as I knew, Meredith was only one of a few tenants (not very many people were able to afford a place like this in Mystic Falls). Alaric and I stepped out of the car and made our way to the elevator and were carried to the eleventh floor. Before I could even raise my hand to knock at the door, the door was thrust open by the woman-in-question. Meredith Sulez—Fell—Saltzman? I can never remember.

"You're late," were her only words.

"Hello to you too," I said sarcastically as I stalked into the main area of the room, leaving the two lovebirds in the entryway of the apartment. "So, where are these 'goodies' that I've been hearing about?" I chuckled, as she had to physically wrench herself away from her fiancée and stalked towards her secret wall that sat behind her bar. She tilted the fake bottle of Smirnoff backwards and encoded the password under the hidden keypad. The wall elevated with one fell 'swoosh' and the weapons were exposed to our view. The guns came in various sizes. Big, small, medium, you name it. For a split second, I felt like Colombiana. A badass.

"So, I take it you like them?" Meredith said as I looked at the guns like a child in a candy story.

"Very much," I answered as I looked back at her, "my only question is how I get these back to the manor without being seen. Hell, I'm not even supposed to be seen."

"I'll take them back," Alaric offered.

"How? The Salvatores aren't supposed to know that she's gone," Meredith asked.

"I was supposed to be meeting with the Salvatores weapons expert in about an hour. I can show them all of those, while I give all of these to Bonnie," he explained.

"Good plan," she said.

"Seems plausible," I interjected.

"Deal. So Bonnie," Meredith addressed me, "I managed to hack the Salvatores mainframe and I know about their dealings that are supposed to go down in the next several months."

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Kill them."

True to his word, Alaric brought me back to the manor safe and sound. The effects of the experimental drug that I spiked Damon with had begun to wear off once we got back and no one noticed a thing. I stalked back to my room with the stealth of a panther and began stripping my 'work' clothes from my body.

Just as I put a towel around my body, a knock came at the door, followed by Damon soon after. I didn't flinch when I felt him standing behind me with his cool breath on my neck, though I realize that he was attempting to go for the intimidation factor.

"What do you want?" I asked without turning around to address him.

"Answers…" he said as he moved around my body and to my bed. Rolling my eyes when his boots came in contact with my sheets, I moved towards him in order to remove his feet.

"If you want answers, Mr. Salvatore, then Google them," I said as I shoved his feet off of my bed and made my way towards my vanity.

"See, that's the problem, I don't think that Google will have the answers to this question."

"Mr. Salvatore, it's Google. Google has everything that you could possibly know or want to know," I responded to him as I looked at his reflection in my vanity's mirror.

"See, I seem to think that you slipped something in my drink, because last I checked, I was having a conversation with you then the next thing I know, I'm waking up in the living room."

Frustrated with his very presence, I swirled around in my chair and faced him head on. "And that's my problem… how? It's not my fault that you're a total drunk and black out during conversations."

"What?"

"Check your drink, Mr. Salvatore, you'll find nothing in them. And for the record, if I wanted to hurt you, I would have already done it. Now leave. I'm done talking to you."

"So you admit that you'd hurt me?" he asked incredulously.

"It's no secret. You've stripped me from my life and everything that I've known for some stupid mafia type reason that I'm apparently too stupid to understand. I hate you Mr. Salvatore. I may be called your mistress, but there's no way in hell that I'm going to give you the satisfaction of touching me," I hissed.

"It's your duty to me, to be mine. And Miss Davenport, you are missing the most important part of that little tirade. You said, 'your mistress.' _Your,_ as in _mine. _You're mine, Miss Bonnie, and I'll touch you whenever I please," Damon threatened as he approached me. Damon stood at six feet even as opposed to my five -foot –five. If he was trying to go for the intimidation factor, then he was going to be sorely disappointed when he discovers that he has failed.

"Touch me, Mr. Salvatore, and Stefan will become an only child," I seethed.

Just as Damon was about to open his mouth, his cellphone went off and he answered it. By the time I turned back to my vanity and fixed my hair into a bun, Damon was finished with his conversation.

"I have to go. I have some things to deal with that need my immediate attention."

"And I care because? If you were to go out and manage to screw up this 'mission' or whatever, and die; I wouldn't bat an eyelash."

After everything that we've been through, after all of the words that we've exchanged with one another, what I just said seemed to affect him the most.

When I looked at him, he looked at me with a blank expression; almost as if he couldn't believe that I could utter such harsh words to him. To be honest, I didn't think that I could be so vile and somewhere in my mind, and in my heart, I felt terrible for what I said. No one deserves to be wished that. The irony of the matter is that, after I kill all of their associates, I _will_ be gunning for Damon and the rest of the Salvatores (except maybe Stefan and Elena) and I _will_ end them.

"I have to go. Things to do, people to kill, you know, what I'm good at. And maybe, if by chance, things don't go my way and I end up dead, you can be free like you so desperately hope for." With that, he stalked towards my door and opened it, but before he left, he turned around.

"Oh, and if you only see yourself as a prisoner, I'm going to start treating you like one." Before I had the chance to ask him what he meant by that, the door was shut and I heard a click. Instinctively, I ran to the door and tried to open it to no avail. That son of a bitch locked the door. Angry, I started pounding on the door.

"Damon! Open this door right now or I swear I'll—"

"—You'll what? Last I checked, you were a prisoner and prisoners don't have any hearsay."

"I swear to God, Damon! If you don't open this door, I will make you pay!" I shouted.

"Sorry, I can't hear you through the door."

"Listen hear you son of a bitch! I won't allow you to lock me up because you're mentally deranged!" I yelled as I kept pounding.

"Yeah, but I'm the mentally deranged son of a bitch with a key," I heard him chuckle and heard the footsteps walk down the hallway.

_He wasn't coming back. _

_ Damn… _

**Damon S. **

I chuckled as I walked away from the locked door with a smile on my face. The image of Bonnie's angry face had a smile come to my face. She was probably cursing me to the fiery pits of Hades. No matter… I wanted her and I had her. When I first saw Bonnie all those years ago at her mother's funeral, I knew that I had to have her. An eleven-year-old brain was not wise to the ways of sex yet, but I knew that I had these feelings for her. The sad look on her nine-year-old face had my heart twisting and turning in ways that I didn't understand. Bonnie didn't know this, but we were betrothed to one another from such a young age. Because we were betrothed, meant that our families were bound together and the fact that we were Catholic helped this 'union.' Being Catholic meant that we didn't believe in divorce. Once we were married, nothing could break us apart. Nothing but death.

_**A/N: How did you guys like that turn of events? And Damon actually liking Bonnie from a young age? Or what about Bonnie's plot to destroy them all? Questions, questions, questions…**_


	4. The Great Escape

**Damon.**

When I left the front of Bonnie's room, I was feeling light on my feet. Granted she still hates my guts, but I at least got to talk to her… that was something at least. Sure, I had her unadulterated hatred, but at least that was something. Usually, when I was with women I was this confident, smooth, debonair man who always knew the right things to say and when to say them. Used to, women would offer to sleep with me for nothing at all. All that was needed was a few minutes of exchanging words; I would find myself in a situation behind the alley or in the bathroom of the restaurant. The women that I've been with… weren't exactly what you would call a challenge.

Then there's Bonnie Marie Bennett Davenport (soon to be Salvatore) who was a complete and total mystery to me. Since she's been at the manor, we've barely been in a room less than ten minutes with one another. I've never felt that way before. Insecure, unsure of myself, lower than dirt… but at the same time, I craved that. If I'm crazy, then call me a masochist. I guess I kind of am one. When she belittles me or sets the record straight, I tend to admire that about her. She says whatever's on her mind, and she doesn't necessarily care who it hurts.

When I was eleven years old, I knew that she was the one for me; that small nine-year-old girl with tears that were pouring down her cheeks as they mixed with the rain, as she mourned the loss of her mother. She was so sad, so, so, sad. My heart broke every single time I imagined her broken face. Now, I see the beautiful, feisty, hardheaded, sharp-tongued woman that lives only a few feet from me. Call me a hopeless romantic, but that's what I am.

As I strolled into my father's office, I noticed that they acted like the Knights of the Round Table. Stefan looked at me with a 'cat caught the canary' look on his face. Some of my father's associates acknowledged me with a slight nod. As I continued around the room, I noticed the look on my father's face. All it said was disappointment. I didn't know what I could have possibly done to piss him off today.

"Damon, how pleasant it is for you to show up," he said sarcastically.

"I'm here aren't I?" I smirked, as I plopped into the chair opposite of Stefan's and to the left of my father.

"Yes… you are. Surprise, surprise," I nodded my head to him, "Well, now that you all are here, we can get started. Firstly, we have a special guest with us tonight. Liam Davenport," Giuseppe announced, and a tall middle-aged Caucasian male strutted through the door in a decked out Armani suit.

"Giuseppe," he addressed, and then he turned to me and managed a small smile, "Damon."

"Liam. How are you today?" _Keep it pleasant, Salvatore. _

"How's my daughter?" _Ha! As if you could even call her that. _

"Psychotic," I answered immediately.

"She got that from her mother's side. She hasn't been giving you too much trouble, has she?"

"Did you hear me, Liam? I said she's psychotic. Of course she's been giving me trouble," I joked. Liam chuckled and walked over towards me and patted me on the back.

"So, gentlemen, tell me what the plans are," Liam said, suddenly serious. Clearing his throat, Giuseppe made his way to the head of the table.

"We have an experimental drug in the works. Right now they're located in Miami, and should be completed and arriving here in about nine months."

"Nine months, father? The time it takes to have a child is equivalent to the time it takes to get this drug? What a crock!" I scoffed.

"Damon, now is not the time," he seethed.

"Giuseppe, what is this drug called?" Liam interjected.

"Achelois. It means, 'she who drives away the pain.' The drug is a hallucinogen. It renders the person who uses it to be in a 'medicated state.' If you could compare it to anything, it would be morphine, but ten times as strong."

"Interesting… have you heard anything from the Vladimir and the Nikolai Clan yet?" Liam asked.

"Nothing. Seems they've been on the down low recently."

"That's not good, it means they're planning something, something—"

"—Diabolical?" I supplied.

"Damon, now is not the time," Giuseppe growled.

"No, he's right. From now on we need to keep an eye out. No one must know about our pact, otherwise shit is going to hit the fan."

"As much as I hate to say this, Davenport, but you're right. Keep an eye out, all of you," Giuseppe gritted through his clenched teeth as he scanned the area and finally landed on me. His gaze on me hardened, before he turned back to Liam to shake his hand. "Liam, it was good to see you, we'll talk soon."

"One more thing," Liam said as he turned his body towards me, "keep my daughter safe. I know that she isn't necessarily pleased with this unfortunate turn of events, and she's angry with me and the situation, but this is all affecting her and I don't want her to go through anymore pain."

"You have my word, Liam. I'll keep her safe."

"Thank you, you have my blessings."

**Bonnie.**

Wasn't this just spit-in-your-face-kick-you-in-the-crotch- fantastic? I'm locked in my room because of Damon, the bane of my existence! I cannot believe that self-absorbed, self-serving, ignorant, arrogant, sad excuse of a man! He just locked me away in my room like a prisoner! The audacity! I may not like the situation that I'm in, but I am no prisoner.

After sitting for a few moments more, I jumped off of my bed and ran to my closet and yanked on a form fitting wife beater and a pair of Soffe shorts. I wanted out, and I was going to get out one way or another. Because this was a large room, there were various things that I could get a grip on. Swiftly, I made my way to the bathroom and climbed onto my sink. Once I was situated, I undid the screws of the unusually large air vent and hoisted myself inside.

The vent was disgusting. There were layers of dust and grime covering every available surface. Cobwebs were behind every corner. Gross, but I've seen worse. I crawled further in the vent until I was above the kitchen, something smelled delicious! Knowing Maria, she was cooking something grand. I gave a slight smile to the unsuspecting cook and continued my journey through the vents. As I moved further along, I didn't feel comfortable in my space anymore. I could feel the quivering of the cool metal beneath me. The vent was going to break.

Once that thought left my mind, it groaned in protest of my weight and collapsed beneath me and I fell about ten feet to the ground—which is what I thought until I felt the hard body beneath me, which broke my fall.

Damon.

"What the hell?" he yelled as he looked at me through his dark lashes, "Bonnie? I thought you were in your room?"

"Well, obviously I'm not. I didn't feel like being treated like a prisoner, so I broke out."

"Bonnie? What are you doing?" My heart clenched as I recognized that voice. From my position on top of Damon, I rotated my body in order to address the person speaking to me.

My father.

"What are _you_ doing? And _here_?" I shouted.

"I have business with the Salvatores," he answered calmly.

"Right. I mean, I was stupid enough to actually believe that you were here to see your only daughter. My mistake."

Then, without a word, I stood up from the ground and left the room in an eerie silence. My dad never loved me. He loved his money. And I was just his roadblock in life.

When I reached the bedroom, I turned the knob and attempted to open the door. I forgot it was locked. Damn. Instead of breaking the door down like I normally would have, I just gave up and collapsed to the ground. I was too exhausted. I've reached my bullshit quota for today.

After sitting in absolute silence for minutes on end, I heard soft footsteps approaching. Without even looking up, I knew who it was.

"Go away," I said without even looking at him.

"I'm sorry about your father," Damon said as he sat down next to me. To my credit, I didn't even flinch. If I had, he would have seen it as me being a weak, submissive woman, which I'm not. Not anymore.

"Do you not understand English? I said, 'Go. Away.'"

"I heard you, I just choose not to listen," he paused, "but if you want to talk, I will," he said softly. If it weren't for the fact that I knew what kind of person he is, then I would have fallen for this charade. The men of the mafia were always such good liars.

Turning to him, I gave him a small smirk before I began speaking. "You drop the act. Because if you really want to get to hear about all of my internal woes, then that's fine, but I'm telling you right now that you will _not_ be getting me into your bed tonight… or ever. You got that Mr. Salvatore?"

For a moment, I was pleasantly surprised to see the shocked look on his perfectly sculptured face, but it was gone as soon as it appeared and it was replaced with a look of… amusement?

"Direct little thing, aren't you?" he chuckled as he ran his fingers through my hair. I yanked my hair out of his reach.

"I just wanted you to know, it that was your goal for tonight, then I suggest you take up soccer, at least that way, you'd score," I retorted.

"It's not even like that," he said with a hurt expression on his face.

"You're a powerful man, Mr. Salvatore. You're used to controlling everything around you. Am I supposed to believe that you're not trying to control me?"

"You don't," he whispered.

"And that's why I don't trust you."

_**A/N: So sorry about the shortness of this chapter. I hope that Bonnie's attitude isn't turning anyone off. She's angry because people keep hurting her. I don't think they elaborate that enough in the show. In the show, she just brushes it off like it's not a big deal when it is. After years of people hurting you, you want them to hurt back. Anyways! I hope you guys read AND review! And if you want to, PM me and tell me what you'd like to see, and I'll try to make it happen!**_

_**PS. **_

_**Thanks for the AWESOME PM message Lily Cullen Salvatore! It made me happy! **_

_**PPS. This is my first post from ITALY!**_


	5. One Down, Six to Go

**Bonnie B. **

It had been a few days since I spoke to Damon and had our little heart-to-heart. Granted, his story was the stuff of Oscar winning movies, but I still couldn't find it within myself to trust this man.

Damon Salvatore was on my hit list. When he falls, so will Giuseppe. And the rest of the mob will come crumbling down. With Damon, there is no vendetta against him, just his father. He just so happens to be the _one _thing that stands between my vengeance and the Salvatore clan as well as the whole mafia collectively. It will be the fall of all that is wrong within the world. No more innocent families will have to suffer because they didn't pay the mafia back. That's one last child who doesn't have to worry that their father is not coming home because he wasn't able to pay a debt.

My father, Liam Davenport, was once the most feared man in the east coast and a little of the west. He thought that with fear, came respect. He didn't realize that with fear, came hatred and anger and jealousy. In this particular case, the green -eyed monster reared its ugly head when it concerned a few traitors to my father's regime. I remember it like it was yesterday.

My parents and I were walking in the park; we had just come from the circus and Liam was treating us to cotton candy and hotdogs at a nearby vender. What I find so hilarious was that I was such a naïve child. Never once did I cross my mind that my dad, my _dad_ was a criminal. I never used to question why every Tom, Dick, and Harry was at our every outing; watching and waiting for someone to attack. But I did know one thing, and that was that Giuseppe Salvatore had my hairs on the back of my neck standing at attention. There was something about this man that had me feeling queasy. Every time he would look at me, I could feel goosebumps creep all over my skin. It was like he knew something, like a secret that he was trying to let me in on.

On that fateful day, I knew that my life was going to change. When we got out of our chauffeured cars, we sprinted into our mansion. My heart was racing when I saw the panicked look on both of my parents' faces. When I saw the fear on their features, I knew that something was wrong; my parents were never the kind to put on display for the world to see. My mom placed me in the coat close and kissed my forehead. I could still remember the salty tear streaks on her face. She knew she was going to die. Silently she closed the doors, and turned to face her fate. The next thing I knew, I saw guns aimed at my mother then a loud bang, then I watched her collapse to the ground. And over her dead body, I saw Giuseppe.

Shaking my head from the less that joyful memories, I stared out at the night sky and the full moon. I wanted everyone to pay for destroying my family, even Liam, himself for ruining everything, for destroying me and for making me this monster. I hated him. I hated them. And they were all going to wish that they hadn't met me.

The sudden opening of my door disrupted my thoughts.

Damon.

I knew it was him before he even opened his mouth.

"What do you want now, Damon? Just because we had a little 'heart-to-heart' last night, does not mean that we're friends."

"It's not even like that, Davenport. Besides, I haven't done anything of late to upset you," he said coldly.

"Oh," I said with faux surprise as I turned to look at him, "so you haven't murdered anyone viciously lately? Let's be best friends," I finished sarcastically.

Damon's eyes narrowed before he chucked a bag at me.

"What's this?" I inquired.

"Your outfit for tonight. We have been summoned to attend a party tonight at a nightclub. Be ready by eleven."

"What's this club called?" I pressed.

"_Devil's Lounge._ Now get ready," he hissed, leaving no room for argument.

I barely acknowledge him as he left the room. Opening the bag I pulled out a dress… if you could even call it that. The term 'little black dress' came to mind, emphasis on the 'little.' The dress that he handed me was an insult. 'Dress' was to good of a word for this scrap of fabric. The 'dress' was a leather dress with a plunging neckline that probably went past my navel and would most likely stop above my bikini line. The sides of the dress were made of a lace material, and the back also plunged to where I believe would be just above my ass.

He expected me to wear this? I've seen more clothing on a prostitute. Tossing the hooker wear to the side, I dug further into the bag and pulled out a box. Opening it, I realized that they were shoes. Hooker heels. They were five-inch platform heels that were clear. He wanted me to be a slut? Good luck trying. I knew that I had a great body; countless hours of training helped in that matter, but for him to exploit me, and show me off like a prized pony was crossing a line that I didn't even know existed.

In anger, I threw the items across the room and was satisfied at the sound they made when they collided with the wall. Hastily, I strolled to my closet and thrust open the doors and pulled out my item of choice. It was a black dress that was conservative enough for me to wear, but sexy enough to drive a man wild. The dress was a halter styled silhouette that tied around my neck and over my open back. The neckline plunged just beneath my chest with a silver sequined accented empire strap. Its skirt fell to the floor with a flattering straight hemline and dual slit accents in the front. Wearing this dress would make it easy to conceal a weapon… or three.

With that, I went into the bathroom and started my shower.

**Damon S. **

When did I get to be such a bastard? Oh yeah, right around the time I became second in line to my father's empire. Giuseppe was never proud of me, if he had it his way, my brother, Stefan would have been in line, not his sad excuse for the eldest. Stefan was a ripper._ Was_ meaning past tense. Killing used to be his way of life, and then he fell in love with some girl and so fell the ripper in him. I mean, it's still there, but it's suppressed.

I had just come back from another 'mission' when I handed threw the bag at the girl. I was angry, I was frustrated, and truth be told, I was also a little bit horny. Killing sometimes did that to me, I guess that makes me a masochistic bastard. Something about the thrill constantly called to me, over and over.

When my father notified me of an upcoming event tonight, that added fuel to my otherwise, sexually frustrated fire. A chance to see Bonnie in that outfit tonight had me… no words could even explain. I was in a full on lust high, and there was no coming down.

After the two hours I had given her to make herself presentable for tonight's event, I had shown up at her door, dressed head to toe in John Varvatos. I knew that I looked good. I knocked at her door twice then held my breath as I heard Bonnie's footsteps approaching.

When she opened the door, my mouth went dry. The dress she wore was exquisite, but it wasn't the one that I had provided.

"Where's the dress that I got you?" I asked, bluntly.

"In the trash," she said nonchalantly, "it was gross and obscene and you were stupid enough to believe that I would lower myself into wearing something like that."

"It was sexy," I defended.

"Yeah, for a hooker. I'm not one, so don't try to morph me into one."

Something inside me snapped, and as quick as a whip, I grabbed her upper arms and pushed her body against the adjacent wall. "But you're my mistress, seeing as you keep forgetting, I own you." I pointed out, knowing that that statement would infuriate her. The look in her eyes told me that I was right.

"Yeah, I am, but we do this on my terms. And quite frankly, I don't want to give myself over, to a selfish, pompous, poor, little, rich boy, like you. Though I don't respect you, I had enough respect to give you the benefit of the doubt. I never thought that you would be the rapist. Can we go now? The sooner we leave, the sooner I come back and you can have your way with me, Master." She uttered so harshly that I couldn't wrap my head around it.

My mouth was dry. How could I respond to something so true? I would _never _force a woman in that way, but God, she believed that I was capable of such an unspeakable act? I really was a monster.

Without uttering another word, I made my way to her and held out her hand for me to take. My heart broke a little more when she spat at my feet and brushed past me without a single glance.

This was going to be one hell of a night.

**Bonnie B. **

The nerve of that man! He thought that he could get me because someone else promised him my body on a silver platter? I promised him nothing and he felt entitled to my body? That son of a bitch. It makes killing him all the more easy.

The ride to the _Devil's Lounge _was made in deafening silence. When we pulled up, it looked as if we were looking into a warehouse.

"This is it?" I asked, bluntly.

"Don't judge a book by its cover, Judge-y." Without my consent, he took my hand and led me into the aforementioned nightclub. "Stick close to me, Bennett, these people won't appreciate your sharp tongue like I do." Fighting the urge to roll my eyes at that statement, I stayed silence, and let him lead me into the club.

The club was nothing like I've ever seen before. It oozed lust and violence. It was dark red and black and had a haze filtering the room. Couples were dancing and grinding so close to one another that I thought that they would become one. Women were traipsing around like brain dead morons. Couples in the corner were having sex like it was nobody's business. And on some level it wasn't. I was just trying to figure out where the hell Damon brought me.

When we walked in, all eyes were on us. Men were openly gawking at me like a fresh piece of meat, as were the women that stared at Damon. I stared up at my… partner? And took in his features. He was menacing and feral. Was it bad that I thought it was kind of sexy? The way that he stared down the other men at the club, in essence of defending my honor was very sexy, but I couldn't allow myself to think of Damon anymore than that. He was my enemy, as were they, but how does the saying go? The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Just then, he leaned towards me and whispered in my ear.

"Look at them, Judge-y, they're all wishing that they were with you. They're mad with jealousy. And I like it."

"Shut it, Salvatore."

"Be careful, Bennett, there are some not-so-nice guys in here that wouldn't mind taking advantage of a defenseless woman."

"I can take care of myself," I retorted.

"I won't give you a chance to. Trust me."

"Hard to trust someone who is just as bad."

"Better to go with the devil you know—" he started.

"—Than the devil you don't," I finished.

We made our way further into the club. The music pulsated around me so hard that I could barely hear anything. When we approached a table, I noticed that there were gentlemen, Damon's age and older giving me lustful stares, and engaging into conversation with Damon. I felt disgusted at these old men.

"And who might this lovely, young woman be?" said a man who looked to be in his early forties with slicked back black hair and a goatee with aviator sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. Instead of answering him like they expected of me, I glared at the man and stayed silent.

"Not much of a talker is she, Salvatore?" he addressed Damon.

"Can't say that she is," he returned evenly. The man smirked at him, before his eyes roamed over my body once more.

"It seems as if you need etiquette lessons, my dear," the man said, "My name is Victor Gambino," he said as he held his hand out for me to take.

Victor Gambino was one of the most violent men in mafia history. He was known for his brothel ring and sex trafficking. Believe me, I read his files when I was in a police station a couple of years ago (long story). And lastly, he had a hand in my mother's murder.

And tonight, I was going to kill him.

"My name is Bonnie. Bonnie Bennett-Davenport." I watched as Victor's eyes lit up in recognition at my name.

"Your Liam's child?"

"Yes." I answered. Victor turned towards Damon and said:

"How did you swing that?"

"Let's just say, I have powers of persuasion," Damon smirked. For a minute, I didn't know if he was serious or a damn good actor.

"If that's the case, since she is now your… _betrothed_," Victor spat, "may I have your permission to dance with the delicate flower?" The amount of crap that was spewing from his mouth was uncanny. He was dirty, old, and a bastard.

"By all means," Damon said to him, before he pulled my body to his and looked to me before he leaned down in a faux kiss, "be careful with him, he's dangerous. If anything happens, come and get me and _I _will deal with him _personally._"

I turned towards Victor and grasped his hand and we made our way to the dance floor. Victor had enough cologne on to make my head spin. During this dance, he had been trying to cop a feel, but I kept my focus on his wandering hands, and the angry glare that Damon was sending our way.

"Tell me, Miss Davenport, how would you like to be with someone of a higher… status, then such an ignorant _boy_ as Damon?"

"I would prefer to stay where I am comfortable, and for the time being, that's with Damon." Victor didn't look the least bit deterred by this.

"But I could offer you so much more, my sweet." He said in what he thought would be a seductive tone. I pretended to take this into consideration, as I looked up at him, then around the area. We were no longer in Damon's visual and I saw that as my opportunity.

"Mr. Gambino," I said in a sultry voice, "would you like to escort me to the ladies' room? I need to get away from this crowd. If you know what I mean," I said as I raised my eyes suggestively.

"That I do."

Smiling a coquettish smile, I grabbed the man's hand and tried not to vomit. I lead him to the ladies' room, which was unoccupied, and pushed him in before locking the door to prevent any unwanted intruders.

"Feisty little thing, aren't you?" he whispered as he pulled me close.

"You don't know how feisty," I said as I reached under my dress and pulled my gun from its holster. For a moment, Victor actually looked… terrified. The thought of death at any given time frightened him? _Him _who likes to play God? How I loved the terror on his face.

"Who are you?" His voice quivered.

"Oh, Mr. Gambino, you know who I am. I am Bonnie Bennett, daughter of Liam Davenport, and the woman who's mother you've helped murder." Instead of backing down in terror, he started laughing. "What's so funny?"

"You. You believe that you could kill me? I've been in this game longer than you have, little girl."

"Believe _me, _Gambino, it shows. Any last words?"

"Yes, go to he—"

He never got to finish because before he did; I shot him in the head with my gun. One down, six to go.

**A/N: So… I've been seriously slacking on the updates! I hope you guys liked this chapter, so much angst! PM me on how you want Bonnie to discover her feelings for Damon. May the best idea win!**

**Link to Bonnie's Dress: . **

**Link to Damon's outfit:**

.com/Austin_Two_Button_Notch_Lapel_?utm_source=google&utm_medium=affiliate


	6. Revelations

_**A/N: So… If you guys couldn't tell, I'm pleasantly surprised and excited about the reviews! Like seriously, I love that you guys like my work! Well, I don't want to give anything away, but lets just say that there's going to be a few unexpected twists in this story and in this chapter alone and they're pretty freaking good! Lots of BAMON and... understandings to say the least. But you know how Damon is, everything is filled with a lot of half truths. **_

**Bonnie B. **

What kind of person am I? I mean, I looked a man dead in his eyes and took his life away. I wasn't a god. Who was I to decide who lived and who died? The first time I've killed someone, and it's in a bathroom stall of some sketchy club. I always talked big when it came to Meredith and Alaric, but in reality, I was a small fish in a large pond. I've been exposed to this lifestyle for as long as I can remember, I knew the ins and outs of it; I _knew_ how to kill and how to choose the right guns to kill someone with. I know ALL of this, backwards and forwards! I've memorized, trained, and studied all of this! But even though I knew this, taking a life by my own hand was something that I couldn't get over. The funny thing about it was that Victor Gambino didn't look scared and he didn't beg for his life like I thought he would.

Carefully, I put the safety on and hid my gun in my holster just beneath my dress, and walked towards the dead body.

_Shudder. _

Picking up the corpse of Victor, I hauled the body towards the opposite end of the bathroom and pulled a chair to lean against the wall and climbed on top of it in order to open the window.

Once it was opened, I crouched down and pulled Victor's body towards the window and shoved the body outside, landing it in a dumpster. After that 'task' was done, I reached beneath the sink for a jug of bleach and a sponge and began to wipe the area down. When I was finished, I stood up and hid the items and washed the smell of bleach off of my skin before I unlocked the door and made my way through the gyrating mass of people. Damon was within my visual and I made my way over to him… at least I was going to before a wandering hand wrapped around my waist and tried to grope my breast.

In a flash, I turned on him and looked at the man. He was obviously drunk, his hooded eyes and lazy smile told me so.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"What does it look like, sweetheart? You. Me. Bathroom. Five minutes." He whispered in what was supposed to be a seductive tone of voice.

"I'm here with someone," I said, knowing that wasn't going to be a problem for him.

"Aren't we all? My girl's had her eye on you since you walked into the club. She wanted to watch." I looked at him in disbelief as I fought the urge to retch all over his expensive suit.

"Sorry. Not interested. And I'm here with someone." This man didn't seem to like my answer seeing as he reached out to grab my bicep and pull me closer to him with anger in his brown eyes.

"Oh, so who is this, 'all important' man that you can't leave?" he smirked, trying to call my bluff.

"Damon Salvatore." Immediately his grip left my arm and retracted to his side and he turned around and left without any more words exchanged between the two of us.

Turning around, I can honestly say that my heart leapt into my throat when I saw Damon standing behind me with an angry glare adorning his chiseled features. What could have possibly pissed him off in the last five minutes?

"What?" I asked sharply.

"What took you so long?" Damon sneered.

"I was only gone for five minutes."

"It's been thirty."

"What? Are you keeping tabs on me now?" I questioned.

"Yes." He said unfazed by sharp tongue. "You're mine. Don't you _dare_ forget that, Miss Davenport."

"It's Bennett. How dare you?" I hissed.

"I _dare_ because I can? What took so long, Bonnie-e-e-e," he drawled, "did you sex up Victor in the alleyway?" I felt my body shiver involuntarily at the thought of Victor lying dead in the alley. The guilt was eating me. How could I do that to someone? I guess, Damon must have seen my shudder, because he pressed further.

"Who knew that you were such a little whore, Bonnie? I mean, you come to the club with me and have sex with a man you just met when you wouldn't look my way twice!"

That's it.

With all of my power I reared back my hand and balled it into a fist and let it fly, catching Damon's cheek and snapping his head to the side. For a moment, I reveled in the pain that I gave him. And for that_ moment_, I figured that it wouldn't be so hard to kill this monster. I don't have sympathy for the devil.

"How _dare _you accuse me of _that_?" I spat venomously, "Just because I'm not giving it up to you, _does not_ mean that I'm getting my jollies from someone else in order to spite you. I've made it known to you from the very moment you approached Liam with this half-assed plan of yours, that I've hated you, that I _still _hate you. _I. Hate. You. Damon. Salvatore._ I hate you! There is _nothing_ in you that is redeemable!"

By the time I finished my tirade, I realized that the music that the club had been playing, had long since stopped. The room was quiet; eerily so. Everyone had been looking at the altercation between Damon and me with rapt attention. The funny thing was that I wasn't embarrassed in the least.

"You're beneath me, Damon, not the other way around," I finished shakily.

Something snapped in him. His ice- cold eyes flared like blue flames as he stared intently at me. I thought he was going to kill me; instead he pulled me close and hissed.

"Now you've embarrassed _me._ We're leaving. And when we get home, I'll show you who's beneath whom."

I didn't even fight when he dragged me towards the exit of the club and to his Ferrari. I didn't fight when he threw me into the passenger side of the vehicle. Silently, I pulled the seatbelt into place and stared ahead and out of the windshield.

Killing Damon Salvatore was going to be harder than I thought.

When we arrived at the manor, he put the car in 'park' and I took that as my cue to get out of the car and walk into the house. I was in for it. I walked in first, Damon following close behind me. The maids, 'coworkers,' and even his brother, Stefan, could sense that something was going to go down between the two of us.

_"Leave."_ Damon hissed. The current populace wasted no time in scurrying. When we were alone, Damon walked towards the living room and poured himself some Scotch and pulled some pills out of his coat's pocket and downed two in a single gulp. I stayed silent, not wanting to anger him any further. I knew that on a good day, I could take him in a fight, but Damon had anger and alcohol on his side; a volatile combination.

"I'm going to ask you one more time, Bonnie," his voice startling me out of my thoughts, "what were you doing with Victor Gambino?"

"Nothing. We danced. He tried to get me drunk. I rejected him. He caught a fit and got too rough. Then he left. He said something about a smoke," I lied.

"Why don't I believe you?" he asked, rhetorically.

"Maybe because you trust no one?" I muttered sarcastically. Before I knew it, a glass came flying at my head and I ducked before the glass hit me. Hearing the glass shatter behind me, I was scared for my life. When I turned back to face Damon, he was already charging towards me with his calloused hand wrapped around my throat as he shoved me against the wall. I let out a muffled scream as I cracked my head against the surface of the wall, but I stilled. I wasn't going to let this man abuse me. Anger took over at that point, and I grasped the hand encircled around my throat and kneed Damon in the groin. I was satisfied with the gasp of pain mingled with surprise that he let out as he doubled over. I stood over him and clasped my hands together before bringing them both down on his back.

"_Don't you EVER do that again!_ I'll kill you before you ever get that chance." I vowed.Instead of backing down like I thought he would, he just chuckled before he stood up and faced me with a maniacal gleam in his eyes. Then as quickly as it came, it left, and in it's place were sad eyes.

"Why do you keep fighting me, Bonnie?" Damon asked, somewhat desperately.

"How's a kidnapee supposed to act towards her kidnapper? Is she supposed to welcome him with open arms? No. She fights until her last breath."

Damon seemed to contemplate this for a moment before he looked at me with something akin to sorrow. He looked… defeated? Thee Damon Salvatore looked _defeated?_ Was the world spinning off its axis?

"I'm a bad man. I know that Bonnie. I will never be a good man," Damon spoke, but not to me and half crazed, "but the moment I met you, I knew that my ways will never change, and I want to drag you into the darkness with me."

I didn't know how to take this. One minute he was threatening me with every inch of my life, and the next he's being all somber and remorseful? What the hell was going on? But this was, Damon Salvatore, you always have to be on your toes.

"What is this?" I asked without preamble. His eyebrow quirked before his once remorseful façade slipped into a cold mask of indignation.

"What's what?" he hissed.

"_This, _Damon!" I shouted as I gestured my arms towards the area, "What is this? The expensive clothes, the women, the money, the private jets, the _mafia?_ What is this?"

"This is me, Bonnie!" he growled. _Good, get angry._

"Exactly, this is _you_. All of it. But this isn't _me._ The problem with you, _Mr. Salvatore_ is that you can buy anything your heart desires. But not me. You can't buy me, you can't scare me, and you sure as hell don't have any leverage over me, but what's left of my family. And you use my weaknesses to your advantage, like I'm just another one of your _people._ You like to have some form of control, but you have to know, that you can't control me. Not even when you're watching me or not. I _will not_ bow down to you like the god that you think you are."

With that, I turned around and made my way towards the staircase.

"Where are you going?" he asked like a little lost boy.

"Away from here," I retorted without a second glance.

"That's not an answer."

"It sounded like one to me," I finished as I all but ran up the stairs in order to avoid any more confrontation tonight.

**Damon S. **

I was a piece of work, wasn't I? I care for this girl and I just keep screwing things up because I don't know how to keep my mouth shut and my hands to myself. God, these pills were screwing me up, or maybe it was the lack of taking them. Bonnie is probably cursing me right now, thinking I'm a monster, and she has every right to think that. I am what I am. If I could savor what little respect she has for me, then that was something. A small accomplishment. A small victory.

Gathering my bearings, I made my way up the stairs and to her room. I knocked on the door and I heard shuffling before the door opened. Bonnie stood there, staring at me with hate in her eyes… or was it disappointment? I wasn't entirely sure, but hat I did know was that she didn't deserve this. I had a lot of explaining to do.

"What do you want now?"

"Please listen to me," I gasped desperately. She stood at me for a while before she huffed and opened the door wider and motioning for me to come in.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry for… for everything. I'm not myself. And tonight, I realized how inexcusable I've been acting towards you."

"Look, I realize that you have your issues, but don't think it's okay for you to take out your insecurities out on me. I'm not your live-in punching bag or your whore." God, she thought that that was all I saw her as? She wasn't a whore, she was a queen. If I could only express that to her and how much she meant to me without screwing up everything. I'd be happy.

"I know that you're not a whore. I was just so angry and I just—lost it."

"Fine."

"You don't understand. What if I told you that I was the bad guy?"

"Then I would tell you that there are two different versions of bad."

"What if I told you that I've done bad things?"

"Then I guess I'd have to trust you to not do those bad things to me," she said softly. I knew that she was still angry with me for, well, everything, but she had to understand.

"I have some things to explain to you."

"You don't have to. I'm no therapist and you don't owe me anything."

"Bonnie, I owe you that and more. Bonnie, those pills that you've seen me taking now and again…"

"Yes," she said, urging me to go on. This was tough for me to say, no one outside of my family knew, but Bonnie deserved it and more.

"I have," I turned to look at her and exhaled deeply, "I have Bipolar II disorder. I've had it since I was a kid. Those pills are to help keep me at equilibrium, but at the same time they don't make me feel like… me. And then I get angry and hostile and I take it out on whoever's around. I know it sounds pathetic, but I can't help it. I am so sorry."

**Bonnie B. **

Bipolar disorder? I have to say that I didn't see that coming, but it explained a lot of things. The mood swings, the fits of anger. I felt terrible for him. Those pills stripped him of his entire being. The things he did, the things he said, they weren't of his own volition. I couldn't blame him for a lot of things, but some of the others he was held accountable for. So I said the only thing I could think of.

"I'm sorry."

More weeks passed since Damon spilled his insides about his bipolar disorder and things were looking up. Since then, he's been taking his pills and allowed me some semblance of freedom. I could breathe, but at the same time, I was suffocating. Damon was on my hit list. I was supposed to end him, but now, I wasn't so sure. That night, Damon had shared so many personal things with me because he trusted me? God, and I was going to betray him. That felt like a sucker punch to my gut.

Today the house was in a frenzy. The maids were cleaning frivolously, and the members of the 'family' seemed more on edge than usual. I hadn't seen Damon since that night and I figured that it was because he was busy working with the mafia or he was doing something Damon-like. Whatever the case may be, I knew that something was up. As I walked through the hallway, I watched as the workers watched me. Something was _definitely _going on here, and I was going to find out.

Next thing I knew, the doorbell rang and no one was scrambling to get to it. taking it upon myself to do the honors, I opened the large mahogany door and was surprised to discover the beautiful women on the other side of the door.

"Hello, may I help you?" I asked politely.

"Yes, my name is Francesca Salvatore, I am Giuseppe's wife."

"Oh, I- I didn't know that Mr. Salvatore—"

"And this is, Alana," she addressed the other woman the pride only a mother could give. The woman, Alana, was beautiful. She had thick light brown hair and hazel eyes. Her skin was flawless, but I learned when I was little that just because you're pretty on the outside, doesn't make you pretty on the inside. This woman, was definitely one of those types.

"Your daughter?" I commented.

"Damon's wife."

_**A/N: Didn't see those plot twists coming, did ya? R&R por favor! And sorry for any grammar mistakes that I could have possibly made!**_


	7. A Few Home Truths

_**A/N: Warning: Long, emotional rollercoaster ahead. **_

**Bonnie B. **

_His wife? _ Damon has a _wife_ and didn't find it necessary to _tell_ me? That lying, cheating, son of a bitch! I knew that I was a 'mistress' but I just thought that it was a title. Apparently not… all this time and I let myself have an affair with a _married_ man. There will be words exchanged with him, believe that.

After the night that I spent with him, I thought that everything was out in the open. Last night… last night changed things. I slept with him. And on some level, I felt a connection with him; it was more than just two bodies connecting it were on a spiritual level. That night, I decided that I wasn't going to kill him. He told me that he only did what was expected of him—his father was the one pulling the strings in this arrangement. He told me about his passion for literature and if given the chance, he would have left this family and pursued a degree in literature and became a schoolteacher. A SCHOOL TEACHER! Seriously? This hardcore, fighting, bloodthirsty, man… wanted to be a damn schoolteacher! And then, one thing led to another and… sex happened. Only, it didn't feel like sex. It was more than that, at least to me.

Lies… all of it lies.

"Pleasure to meet you, both of you, really," I said through clenched teeth, "Come in, please," I said 'kindly' as I ushered both Mrs. Salvatores into the manor. "Wait one moment, let me get Damon and Giuseppe for you."

The women didn't even seem to acknowledge my presence, and when they did, they shooed me away with a flick of their wrists and returned to conversation with one another. Snobs… that's all I could say about them. In the meantime, I couldn't harp on the women currently sitting in the lounge; I had a husband to kill.

**Damon S. **

I woke up this morning feeling as if a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. Bonnie and I stayed up all night, just talking about everything. We made a connection last night. We shared so much. After the last thirteen years pining for a girl that I thought I would never have, she was with me last night, on all levels.

It wasn't just about the sex (which was amazing); it was about knowing each other. I learned that she wanted to work in the medical field, but she had to drop out of school to fulfill her duties to her father… and become my mistress. I took that away from her, how could I have been so selfish? It never occurred to me that she had other plans and being a mistress wasn't in her foreseeable future. I destroyed her future, but I was going to fix it. I was going to speak to the president of the school and reenroll her today. With that thought in mind, I got up and into the shower with a smile on my face.

I was enjoying my shower, when I heard the door slightly open. Glancing over, I thought it would have been Stefan, or even Giuseppe, but I was pleasantly surprised to see Bonnie standing at the entrance to the bathroom, with small shorts and a tight tank top. I nearly pinched myself to make sure that I wasn't dreaming. When I did, I opened my eyes to find her still standing there, crooking her finger, and beckoning me to her.

"Good morning, Damon. Sleep well?" she asked in a sultry voice.

"You know I did, someone wore me out last night," I smirked as I looked into her soulful green eyes. I stepped closer to her, and I towered over her in a non-intimidating way and pulled her into my embrace and into a kiss. The kiss lasted a few moments before it got heated and Bonnie's hands began wandering lower. When her hand grasped, 'Little Damon' (who wasn't so little), all bets were off. Forcefully, I pushed against the wall of the bathroom and caught her lips in a demanding kiss. Her grip on me didn't falter; instead, it grew tighter, almost painful.

"Bonnie," I gasped against her lips, "your hold's getting a little tight."

"You know what I hate, Damon?" she whispered back.

"What?" I asked, as I kissed up and down her neck.

"Liars… cheaters… married men who have affairs," she finished as she gripped me harder, the pain was excruciating! Her words were like a bucket of ice-cold water on my overly heated skin.

"What?" I asked as I pulled back and stared into her eyes.

"You're a dick, you know that?" And then it dawned on me… she knew. Pulling back, I looked at her and I saw nothing but hate in her green depths.

"Bonnie, I can explain—"

"No, Damon, you really can't. You used me to… to get your rocks off because your _wife_ wouldn't give you your jollies!" she said as she threw a bar of soap at me and missed and ended up shattering the glass of my shower door. "And to think, I thought that last night meant something!" she yelled as she hurled another bar at me.

"It did! It's just… complicated, right now with Alana and me!" I yelled, desperately to get her to understand.

"And you think that having an _affair_ solves marital problems? Guess what, Einstein, it doesn't! Honesty solves that, _communicating_ solves that! Having _sex_ with another person doesn't solve anything!" she shrieked as she threw a full bottle of Listerine at my head, connecting with it. I saw stars and her aim was impeccable.

"It's not as simple as you think!" I yelled to her, getting frustrated that she wasn't listening to me.

"It _is _that simple!" she screamed. "Not only have you cheated on your wife, but you _used_ me like your personal, live-in, whore! Newsflash, Damon! Your actions don't only affect you, but they also affect the people around you! I've _never _hated someone as much as I hate you right now, Salvatore. I'm done! I hope you rot in hell!" Bonnie screeched as she made her way out of the bathroom. For a moment, she stalled and turned back to look at me. "By the way, your_ wife_ and mother are downstairs."

And then she left.

God, I really messed up. She'll never forgive me.

**Bonnie B. **

When I stormed from the bathroom, I was all right, at least until I got to my room, and the tears just kept coming down my face like torrents. I've never felt so used and filthy. I couldn't stay here any longer. With that thought in mind, I lifted my suitcase from underneath the bed and began packing.

In the midst of packing, I reached for my cellphone and dialed a familiar number.

"Fell, speaking."

"Where's the next trade supposed to go down?" I asked without preamble.

"What? And I thought you and Damon were getting _to know_ each other better?" she said sarcastically.

"It's over. Damon's family needs to go down. Victor Gambino is already out."

"Is he now?" she asked. I could almost see her eyebrows rise.

"Took him out last night. Who's left?"

"You already took out Gambino so, Salvatore, Mikaelson, Santorini. Valentino, De Luca, and Ricci."

"Done. I'll meet you at your place tonight, but I have to make a stop first."

"Take all the time you need, I'm not going anywhere."

**Damon S. **

After throwing on some clothes, I raced downstairs in order to greet my mother and my… wife.

Alana and my marriage wasn't the stuff of dreams. Though I never intentionally got over my feelings for Bonnie, I became infatuated with Alana all throughout college. By the time I graduated college, I asked her to marry me. The only reason I asked her was because it was expected of me, as the elder Salvatore brother to marry, settle down, and have children. I didn't necessarily want that, but it was tradition.

My family was on board with the marriage… well they should have been because they forced me into it. They loved Alana like their own daughter, but they didn't know what went on behind closed doors, she wasn't the angel that they saw her as, instead, she was a bloodsucking harpy.

Alana came from a traditional Italian family, the same as mine. Her father, Alessandro Santorini was all for the marriage between his only daughter and myself. Lord, only knows why, but he was for it. When Bonnie came back into my life, I was pleasantly surprised. My feelings for her had never drifted; they had just been put on the backburner when Alana was concerned. After about a year of marriage, I learned that Alana was nothing more than a pampered princess. When I discovered her infidelity, I had immediately wanted a divorce, but my mother wanted us to work it out, saying that it was a moment of weakness. With the amount of times she had the affairs, I wouldn't deem it as a 'moment' of weakness. I wanted a divorce, but she wouldn't give me one… that bitch. She even got my mother in on this. My mother, I love her to death, but she tried guilt tripping me. First, it was how I was taking away the only daughter that she would ever have. Then when that didn't work, she told me that I was turning my back on my religion and that I was going to hell. So I settled for a legal separation from Alana and stayed on opposite sides of the country for the last two years.

And now they were back. And they met Bonnie, my mistress. And my mistress met my wife. Now my mistress, the one I loved, hated me, and the bitch I'm married to, is back in my life. The way I saw it, was that when I signed those papers for a separation, it was a breakup in my mind. My affairs weren't affairs, but on some basic level, I felt like the more women I screwed, the more I stuck it to Alana.

"Mother, Alana, what are you doing here?" I asked bluntly, as the twosome looked up at me from the lounge.

"What, can't a mother visit her eldest?" she asked innocently.

"Yes, a MOTHER can, but an ex-wife, not so much," I said as I crossed my arms and looked back at the two women before me.

"Damon," Alana began, "I feel like we need to start over in this relationship. I realize that I made a terrible mistake all those years ago, but I'm not the same girl that you once knew."

When I looked at Alana, I noticed all the things that I used to admire about her way back when, but now, it's completely overshadowed by the bitch that she is now.

"Cry me a river, Alana," I bit.

"Damon! Your _wife_ is apologizing to you!" Mother said, aghast, "A real man would accept the apology and move on!"

"Mother, I've already moved on. Did you know that infidelity in a relationship isn't tolerated? She committed adultery, I owe her nothing."

"Oh, I see," Mother began, "this is about that young woman that greeted us at the door. Is she another one of your whores, Damon?"

As soon as she uttered those words, Bonnie came bounding down the stairs with fire in her eyes and a suitcase in her hand. She looked from my mother and Alana, back to me.

"Am I interrupting anything?" she asked.

"As a matter of fact, you are," Alana said as she sized Bonnie up. In any other situation, having two beautiful women vying for your attention would be heaven. In this case, it was the softer side of hell.

"Oh right, you're the _wife_! Forgive me, Damon has told me absolutely _nothing_ about you," Bonnie said with a big, fake, smile on her face.

"And you're the _whore_ that Damon's never spoke of before," Alana retorted. I looked at Bonnie, who had an indescribable look on her features. She looked angry and hurt and proud all at the same time. How she managed that, I don't know. Any minute, she was about to burst like a volcano and I was ready to step in, if need be.

"I'm no whore," Bonnie said in a low, almost inaudible voice, "I am more of a woman that you will ever be. To me, you are the dirt beneath my very expensive boot. Maybe you and your _husband_ do belong together, because right now, you are both beneath me."

I could feel my heart in my throat and hear the blood in my body pulsating in my ears. This was a confrontation that I prepared to have… ever. When Bonnie turned to look at me, she had a look of the utmost hate in her eyes. Then I realized something in that instance, I've never made her smile. I will_ never_ be on the receiving end of her smiles.

"As far as I'm concerned, this _arrangement _is over. I'm done. Liam will have to fend for himself. His problems aren't my own. I'm leaving, and if I never hear from you for as long as I live, it will be too soon." When she turned back around, she addressed my mother and Alana, "Have a nice life, Mrs. Salvatores." And then she walked out the door, not looking back once.

"Well, now that that's over with, you and Alana need to talk," Mother said. Something snapped in me when I heard her mention Alana's name. I loved my mother, I truly did, but why couldn't she see that my heart was breaking? Why was she so intent on having me rekindle whatever the hell I had with my ex-wife?

"Mother! Stop trying to force this marriage! It's not going to happen! I want nothing to do with this lying, cheating, bitch! So, stop!"

"Damon Andreas Salvatore! Watch the way you speak to me! I can see that that harlot has gotten to you. She's not good enough for you, or this family."

"And Alana is? I seriously doubt that," I said as I turned away.

"Damon, where are you going?" Alana asked.

"To call a lawyer. I want a divorce. A permanent one."

**Bonnie B. **

I couldn't believe I was…_crying_! Least of all, over some bastard who only wanted sex from me. Well, he got it. Never in my entire life have I ever felt so used. Maybe that's why I was crying. Nobody uses Bonnie Bennett and gets away with it! So I turned my pain into anger, and my anger was going to result in someone's untimely death.

When I arrived at my studio apartment in town, I was relieved to be home. Well, I was relieved until I saw the one man's face that I never wanted to see again.

Damon…

How in the hell did he get here so quickly? I looked at my dashboard and realized that it was almost two o'clock and it had taken me forty-five minutes to get home, when it was only about a twenty- minute ride. I guess I was more distracted than I thought. Then a thought hit me. What if Damon had used his charm to work his way into my apartment? No one but Meredith had ever seen the inside of my place. What if Damon located all of my weapons and realized what I was plotting? What if he was here to kill me? The Salvatore name opened as many doors in this city as much as the Davenport name. God, how I hoped I was wrong.

I parked my car and opened the door in order to approach Damon with my bag in hand. He looked like a cross between angry and distraught. An angry Damon I could deal with, an emotional one on the other hand, not so much.

"How dare you come here?" I hissed, poised to strike him at any moment.

"No one dared me. I just did," he replied through narrowed eyes. "Why'd you leave?"

"You know what they say: two's company, three's a crowd, and four is just overkill. Plus there's that whole awkward wife meeting your mistress thing to factor in. Well, former mistress. I quit, remember?" I snarked.

"You can't just quit! You forget, your father and I had a deal! I get you, he get's protection from my family."

"And you forget that I'm not a possession. No one 'gets' me. I'm not a prize or an insurance claim. Are you really going to leave my father hanging just because you didn't get what you bargained for?"

"That question also applies to you as well, Bonnie."

"Touché. But I didn't have a say in _any _of this. No one gets to decide my future for me, but _me_! God, Damon, you have a _wife_! I figured that being a _mistress_ was just a title, not an actual _job._ You were using me for sex—"

"—No I wasn't, you judgmental psycho! I wanted you, for you!" He yelled as he smashed his fist into the wall adjacent. Damon didn't seem to feel any pain from the collision; it made me wonder if he felt pain all.

"Did you take your meds today?" I whispered.

"My meds have nothing to do with this Bonnie! What's it going to take for you to believe that I actually care about you? A divorce from my wife? Done. I already have my lawyers making the arrangements? Do you want me to kill for you, because believe me, I will. You know that I'm perfectly capable of doing that! Want me to sell my soul? Tell me!"

"Tell me! Why do you _want_ me, Damon? I've kept asking myself this question for the last six months! What more could I possibly have to offer you other than sex?" I really wanted to know. Why was he so hell-bent on keeping me around? What was his angle?

"You want to know? I want companionship! I want someone to love me! Are you happy, Bonnie? Is that the answer you're looking for? I want someone as my equal, and believe it or not, you're more like me than you're willing to admit. You want to be loved too, and the one time you felt that way was with your mother, but then she was taken away from you." _I flinched when he mentioned my mother, and he caught me and kept going._ "You know," he started softly, "I remember when I first laid my eyes on you. You were nine and I was eleven_." What? I don't remember meeting him so young_. "It was at your mother's funeral. My father took me. God only knows why. Giuseppe and Liam have always had some sort of companionship going on and they'd hoped that we would end up together. But then your grandmother whisked you away, and you were lost to me. Then years passed by and we were reunited. For a while I thought it was fate, but you have this unbridled hate for me and I didn't know why. So can you please tell me?"

I was busy absorbing this entire information overload. Damon felt that way about me when we were…kids? That was impossible, wasn't it?

"Your family killed my mother," I blurted out, "you're the reason I'm unhappy." I was happy to find the shocked and hurt look on his face. He went from ten to zero in less than a second.

"We never put a hit out on your mother. That was one of the other families, Bonnie. We respected your family too much, and since then, we've been trying to find the son of a bitch who did it."

_**A/N: Now wasn't that an emotional rollercoaster? I am pleasantly pleased to tell you all that things will begin improving between Bonnie and Damon, but because it's Bonnie and Damon, things won't always go their way. Please read and review and tell me if you liked the chapter and give me some ideas on what you'd like to see! Plus more Alana drama!**_


	8. Attacked

**Damon Salvatore. **

The look on her face was indescribable. Bonnie looked like a little lost girl after the bombshell that was dropped on her. First, I felt terrible for her loss, and then I felt angry. She thought that I was sick enough to go after her family, and then try to pursue a relationship with her?

"You thought we killed her, didn't you?" I asked through clenched teeth. I sent a glare to her that would usually have people frozen on the spot, but not Bonnie. "And don't try to deny it."

"I thought you killed my mother, I don't apologize for that. The Salvatores aren't exactly known for their trustworthiness. So forgive me for jumping to conclusions," Bonnie said sarcastically.

Her words angered me. After everything I had done for this stubborn woman, she was probably plotting my death in silence. I wasn't stupid. If I thought someone had killed anyone in my family, I would be seeking vengeance as well. On that level I understood her, and that was all. Looking back at her, I saw how her caramel limbs were crossed over her breasts and how her glare was unwavering on my figure.

"You were planning to kill me, weren't you?" I whispered, dreading the answer that she was going to give me.

"Who said I was going to stop planning? I wanted you dead. I still do, but the fact of the matter is, you didn't kill my mother. And for some reason I believe you," she hissed, getting into my face, "But if you betray me in _any_ way, I will make sure that that is the last thing you will do. Are _we _clear?" she spat.

The way that Bonnie was talking to me flipped a switch in my head. I've spent all this time trying to appease to her needs, to make her feel at home, to love her, and I got shit in return. If she didn't respond to kindness, then maybe she would respond to violence.

In that instant, I grasped my hand around her neck and shoved her against a nearby wall, mindful of the audience that we could possibly attract. I pressed my body against her soft, petite figure and lowered my head towards her ear, while I used my other to trail random designs up and down her arm's length. To an outsider's point of view, it looked like a man and a woman in a lover's embrace, to us on the inside, it was anything but.

"How do you like me now, Bonnie?" I whispered, as I trailed my lips lightly up and down the angle of her jaw. "I've tried to be the nice guy, and that got me nowhere with you, how would you like it if we got a little…_rough_?"

For a moment, I could feel her giving into temptation. Forbidden fruit always tasted the best, believe me, I knew how good it _tasted _last night. Now the tables had been turned and I was now the fruit and I was waiting to see if she gave in. I wanted to see how far I could push her into submission. Then I realized that I wanted to break her. I wanted to ruin her for other men, I wanted it to be so_ bad_ and so_ good_ that once we were finished, she'd have no one else to turn to but me.

Slowly, I released the hold on her neck and began tracing the indentation on her skin that her clavicle created. Little did I know; Bonnie was not under the same spell that I was. Lust was a very powerful emotion that could burn and consume you whole if you were not careful. I didn't care. Let it burn me.

Just as I was about to close my lips onto her bow-shaped ones, I felt our positions switch, until I was the one pressed against the wall with Bonnie's lips tracing my Adam's apple. Forcing back a groan, I looked back at her with so much passion, that I thought I was going to spontaneously combust.

"You think that I want you?" I heard her muffled voice ask. Gathering my bearings and holding back a moan I replied:

"I know you do."

"For once in your life, you're right Damon," she concluded. My heart skipped a beat at her acceptance for her want of me. "But it's wrong."

In my lust- induced haze, I almost didn't process what she had said. "What's wrong? There's nothing wrong here! You have feelings for me, I have feelings for you, we can be happy!" I yelled, desperately.

"You're married. I can't be with a married man, Damon. And I never said I had _feelings_ for you. There's just too much to even consider a relationship. I'm sorry, but it's true. I'm sorry if that's not the answer you're looking for, but that's the only answer I have now."

"Damn it, Bonnie! I'm getting a divorce! Hell, a piece of paper is the only thing that says we're together! In my heart, it's been long over, why can't you believe me?"

"Because I don't know what to believe! You want the truth? I was planning to kill you!" I froze, "Yeah, don't look so surprised. I killed Victor Gambino without hesitation, so what makes you think that you're special? And I've killed before that! Now I find out that all of this was a waste? I made it my life's _mission_ to make everyone suffer for the murder of my mother. That included you! I was going to kill you. Now, how do you feel?"

I didn't know how to feel about that. All of this time, everything that we've shared together had been a lie. She was going to kill me, and she wasn't going to think twice about it. Apart of me… a large part of me was angry as hell, but there was also this part of me that could understand. After your mother was ripped away from you at such a young age, would have some negative effect that could carry on into adulthood.

In the end, anger won out. In a fit of rage, I threw Bonnie's body into the door of a random car in the parking lot. Upon collision, her head shattered the window and her body dropped to the ground in a heap of limbs. For a moment, I thought that the impact had killed her. All of the sudden, Bonnie was on her feet, facing me, with blood dripping down the side of her head. I didn't see the punch coming to my face until it was too late. My head snapped to the side and I wasn't conscious to the fact that she had pulled a gun on me. I heard the first click, and for the first time in a long time, I thought that she was going to kill me.

"What now Bonnie? Are you going to kill me? Are you going to kill someone who didn't have a damn thing to do with the death of your mother? Are you going to kill the man that's been in love with you since he was eleven? Are you?" I could feel her resolve wavering, as well as the hold on the gun.

I was relieved when I heard the fired arm clatter on the pavement next to me. Looking at her, I could see the tears in her eyes. And the defeated look in her posture and on her face. I think I finally broke Bonnie Bennett, and it wasn't as satisfying as I believed it would be.

I took the girl I loved into my arms as she cried for everything. For the death of her mother; for the deaths that she's caused, for the situation that she's been thrown into. She didn't deserve this pain. No one did.

"It's okay, I've got you," I whispered into her hair.

"Why?"

"Because, I've loved you forever and I'm not going to let you continue to go down this path. I'll help you in any way I can."

"Damon?"

"Yes?"

"If you break your vow, no army in the world could save you from me."

**Damon Salvatore. **

Upon entering the manor, there was uproar of commotion. I figured because my mother was still here and where my mother was, Alana followed suit. The help was probably gossiping over the Mistress/ Wife controversy.

Since the ride back, Bonnie hadn't said a word; she just went to her quarters and stayed there for the remainder of the evening. Walking into the den, I grabbed the Bourbon from its place in the bar and poured myself a glass. Today was one of the most trying days of my life. I discovered that the love of my life has been plotting my death since before she could remember, then I decided to assist her by trying to locate her mother's killer.

Just when I thought that today couldn't get any worse, Alana waltzed into the den with a small smile on her face.

"Hello, Damon," she greeted.

"Alana. What are you still doing here? I thought I kicked you out," I said without looking at her.

"I knew you didn't mean it. I figured that we could talk. Just the two of us."

"You figured wrong. I want you gone. I want my divorce and I never want to see you again."

"Because of your whore?" she inquired. The way she said that sent me into a frenzy. I chucked the glass of alcohol in her direction, making it shatter on the wall behind her.

"She's not a whore. You're just a desperate bitch that can't take a hint," I gritted through my clenched teeth.

"Is that any way to talk to your wife-?"

"Soon to be ex if you'd just give me my divorce."

"But I love you."

"No you don't. You love money, status, and anything else you can get your grubby little hands on. You want money? Take it. Status? You already have it. I just want you out of my life because I can't stand you, you selfish bitch!"

"Damon!" I turned towards the voice of my mother standing in the entryway with my father, brother, sister-in-law, and… Bonnie?

"Is that any way to talk to your wife?" Mother asked.

"It's the way I talk to my ex-wife. I wasn't joking, Mother, I want a divorce. I'm done with her." I said, stalking over to my father's side. It's funny; the only thing that we could agree on was the fact that my marriage to Alana was a joke.

"You can't be serious," she gasped.

"As a heart attack. The only reason I married her in the first place was to satisfy you. I haven't done anything for myself and the one time I try to do it, I'm wrong. Where's the sense in that?"

"Honor! How could you turn your back on this family, Damon?"

"I'm not!" I shouted, "I'm turning my back on that psycho! I hate her! I want nothing to do with her! What don't you _get_? I'm not your whipping boy anymore. I want a divorce. There's nothing to work out. This marriage is dead, just like my feelings for her!"

"You're turning your back on your _wife_ for your _whore_?" she spat, and pointed at Bonnie.

"Francesca…" my father tried to butt in. He knew it was a mistake for her to even broach the subject of Bonnie.

"She's not a whore! And you'd do well to hold your tongue in my house, _Mother_. She's twice the woman than Alana is. Why can't you see that?"

"She's the daughter of a whore, Damon! She doesn't belong," Alana, pleaded, "It was a good thing Daddy got rid of her when he did."

Then it went silent. So silent that you could hear a pin drop. Everyone froze when they heard the news. I was as shocked as anyone else. My eyes slid to Bonnie's face and all you could see were the emotions the colored her.

Before I could do anything, Bonnie leapt at Alana so quick, that I didn't even register her movement, and bashed my ex-wife's head into the table.

_**A/N: Sorry But I'm ending the chapter there. Terrible cliffhanger, I know, but it's a small price to pay to keep you guys interested. Sorry, but I'm doing swim lessons. What do you think of this turn of events? No one saw that coming! The next chapter shall be more intense! Sorry for the late update! R&R please if you don't hate me!**_


	9. Be Careful What You Wish For

**Bonnie B. **

"You bitch!"

I didn't know what came over me. It was like a demon possessed my body and I was watching myself like the way you watch a movie. The moment… the moment that… _bitch _uttered those words: _Daddy got rid of her_. I snapped. In that moment, I wanted to make Alessandro Santorini pay dearly. I wanted to cause him pain for destroying my family and I wanted to make his daughter hurt.

In a flash, I was in front of her smirking face. I clasped my hand around her neck and began to choke the life out of her. Her acrylic nails scratched at my forearm and drew blood, but I didn't budge. I didn't care, because I knew that this pain would last for a short period of time, but hers… hers would last a hell of a lot longer. Her struggles weren't lessening like I thought they would be, so I decided to make her hurt a little bit further. I released my grip on her neck and moved my palm to the back of her ebony head and smashed it into the Salvatore's coffee table. I smirked in satisfaction when I heard the shattering the glass after her head impacted on it.

Alana's head was bloodied. The shrieks from Mrs. Salvatore fell on deaf ears. It was like there was only sound in the background. I could hear it, but I couldn't care less. My mind was focused on getting revenge and causing pain. I wanted Alana to feel the hurt I've felt since I was nine years old. But still… the pain I caused her, couldn't even compare to how I felt. I wasn't done with Alana… not by a long shot.

I watched Alana's form slowly move into a seated position. Mrs. Salvatore was long gone while Damon and the rest of the Salvatore men stood motionless. Slowly but swiftly, I made my way towards my new enemy and crouched down so I could look her dead in the eye. I watched in sick satisfaction as the blood from her forehead trickled down to her eye, rolled down her cheek and stopped at her mouth. Good.

"I'm going to kill you, you know." It wasn't a question, just statement; "I'm going to kill you like your father killed my mother. Then… I'm going to kill him. I am going to destroy his family the way he destroyed mine. And you, bitch… you're the sad, useless, little girl that was born into the wrong family. Do you understand me?" I asked. When Alana didn't answer, I brought my hand to her thick, ebony hair and jerked it and her head followed. "I said: _Do. You. Understand. Me?_" I bellowed. Tears streamed down her face as she nodded in compliance. "Good." Then I slowly slid my other hand to my back where my gun sat and I wrapped my fingers around it. When I had it in my grasp, I pulled it from my holster and brought it up to Alana's face.

"Do you see this?" she nodded. "I'm going to kill you with this gun. The same gun your father used to kill my mother. Kind of poetic, don't you think?" I didn't wait for the answer this time, as I placed the cool metal on her temple with my finger on the trigger. Just as I was about to pull it, a force knocked me to the side and I misfired the bullet into the ceiling.

**Damon S.**

I didn't know what was going through Bonnie's head when we heard the news of her mother's untimely demise. When she attacked Alana, it was expected and a long time coming. When my mother was screaming bloody murder, I didn't flinch, but I could feel my father and my brother growing tense beside me, ready to attack Bonnie if necessary.

"Don't. Let them be. Maybe this is the message that we need to have sent to Alessandro. We're not playing."

"Damon, what if she kills her?" Giuseppe asked.

"She won't."

"But if—" Stefan tried.

"_She won't!_" I bellowed. I turned back to the scene. It was wrong of me, I know it, but I was a little bit aroused when Bonnie showed her ruthlessness. To be honest, I wasn't quite sure if Bonnie was all there in her head. Her mental stability should be called into question. When I watched her, I saw a woman with fire in her heart and a beautiful soul that got misdirected because of all of the bad things that has happened to her since her mother was lost. I wasn't going to let Bonnie fall into despair. If she did decide to kill Alana, then I believe that will be the final breaking point, and she _will_ lose it. Bonnie was strong, but she's not strong enough to deal with the blood on her hands… even if she does have some on them already.

What I didn't expect to see was Bonnie pulling a gun on her, with the intent on ending her life. It was like my body was on autopilot; I threw my body at her and knocked her to the ground. I could feel her struggling beneath me, but her body was smaller than mine, so I had the upper hand. I pushed the gun out of her reach and began yelling to my father and Stefan.

"Get the gun and grab Alana and get her out of her. I'll take care of Bonnie." Surprisingly, they both did as they were told and were out of here within moments.

I lay on top of Bonnie until I was sure that she had calmed down. Looking down at her, I noticed that the fight in her had worn out and she wasn't moving as erratically as she was before. Still, that didn't mean that she had her head on straight, she was still a danger to herself and my family. And though I loved her and detested my family most of the time, I couldn't allow her to do that.

I rolled off of her small body and lay next to her.

"Are you okay?" I asked after a moment of silence.

"Does it _look _like I'm okay!" she yelled, "You just let that _bitch_ walk out of here."

"Actually, with the way you beat her, she had to be carried out of here," I tried to joke.

"You think this is some kind of joke? It's not. So stop treating the situation like it is," she said as she stood up and brushed her pants off.

"Do you ever get tired?" I asked. Bonnie whipped her head back to me. Something inside me snapped when she accused me of treating this as a joke. No more Mr. Nice Guy. I've learned in the past few months that Bonnie doesn't respond to 'nice.'

"What?"

"I asked if you ever get tired. You know, of being a judgmental, little, bitch?"

"Excuse me?" she gasped.

"You see, Bon- Bon," I said, getting up as well, "you've been nothing, but a moody, judgmental, little psycho and I've been able to put up with it because I have feelings for you, but damn, now I'm beginning to wonder why. You need help. Plain and simple. Leave it to the big boys to deal with this problem. Your head's not on straight, and that makes you careless. You could get someone killed or even yourself."

"I don't care and you don't know what you're talking about," she insisted as she turned to walk away from me. I caught up to her in a matter of moments as she strode up to the stairs.

"Wrong answer. You do care. And you have people who care about you, but you're just too damn stubborn to see it."

"You're wrong."

"Look, _Bennett_," when I saw her shiver, I carried on, "I'm getting sick of you. I've been trying to play the nice guy role, but I'm done now. I'll show you what it's like to be a real assassin, a real murderer. You know nothing, little girl." I threatened as I pushed her body against the wall adjacent to the stairs.

"Be careful what you wish for"

_**A/N: Sorry about the shortness of the chapter! OMG I can't believe I have so many reviews! This is the most I've ever gotten! I wonder when I'll make it to 100? Suggestions are always welcome!**_


	10. Alone

_**Damon. **_

__I meant what I said. I was done playing second fiddle to Bonnie's bullshit. Yes, I do realize that you want vengeance over the son of a bitch that destroyed your life. Yes, losing your mother was terrible. And yes, you have every right to hate the world, but don't you dare try to take it out on the one person that's trying to help your ungrateful ass out. No more Mister Nice Guy. If she wouldn't respond to my caring ways, then she'd probably respond to my asshole alter ego.

As I towered over her petite figure, I ran my rough hands over her smooth cheek. In her eyes, I could see nothing but hate and if I looked a little closer, I could see a hint of lust. Rage was her friend, violence was her hobby, and misery was her life. It was then I realized that I had pitied her. Bonnie had no one in her life. Her mother was dead. Her father pawned her off on us, and come to think of it, she didn't have any friends. She was seriously alone, and I wanted to fix that. In order for me to do that, she'd have to learn to tame her inner bitch and realize that she isn't as invincible as she thinks she is.

"You know what your problem is, Bennett?" I asked after moments of silence.

"No, but I'm pretty sure that you're going to tell me," she said in a bored tone.

"Your problem is that you're alone in the world. You have _no one._ You have no friends. Your mother is dead and your dad doesn't give two shits about you-"

"Shut up! You don't know a damn thing about me!"

"I think I do. You're _pathetic_. The only reason you're on this whole _'vengeance'_ kick is because there's nothing left in your life. You're not even human anymore. You're _nothing_." I hissed. "You may not see it, but I'm trying to help you. I'm trying to keep you from going over the edge. Once you cross that line, there's no going back. You'll lose yourself, if not your life. Do you honestly want to spend the rest of your life trapped? No amount of vengeance and hate is worth that." I finished softly. _Great Damon… so much for being Mr. Badass_

Bonnie stood stoically as she looked at me again. When I looked at her this time, I didn't see the hate that I was usually so accustomed to seeing. This time when I looked at her, I saw something shift. Yeah, there was still some hate, and even a smaller piece of lust, but there was also something I couldn't place… realization, I guess? I knew that I had hit a nerve with her and usually, Bonnie was the most judgmental bitch I'd ever met, so I knew that I had created a chink in her otherwise, stalwart armor. I was reaching her, slowly but surely, I was. At least I finally managed to do something in the almost year we've been thrust together.

And just as soon as her realization came, it went. Her green orbs hardened into twin emeralds as she turned her eyes onto me.

"What is this?" she hissed, quietly as she folded her arms across her chest and challenged me to a staring competition.

"What's what?" I asked, confusedly.

"What _is_ this?" she repeated more forcefully, taking a step toward me. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I don't want anything to do with it. Usually you're so full of shit, now you're trying to _protect _me from the evils of the world? I'm not buying it. So I'll ask again. What. Is. This?"

That's when I got angry. I have put up with so much of Bonnie's shit that I was getting fed up. I wanted to hurt her. I wanted her to feel like I've been feeling. I wanted to cause her pain. I realized that she was thrown into this situation without her consent. I get that she wasn't happy, and maybe the fact that I've been trying to pursue her since she set foot in this house may have turned her off of me. Enough was enough. I haven't made her do anything that she didn't want to do. I've _never_ forced myself on her. Was it too much to ask her to trust me and to stop second-guessing _everything_ I've done _for _her?

Apparently it was.

"This is me!" I roared. "I'm not the monster that you try to make me out to be! Yeah, I've killed some people. So what? It's called 'survival of the fittest' for a reason! Kill or be killed, _Bennett_," I snarled. "Careful, _baby_, I'm about to shake your perfect little world."

"I don't want anything from you, except for you to _leave. Me. Alone!" _she shouted. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see some of Giuseppe's minions standing about like they weren't listening in on the conversation. I narrowed my eyes at them. They were gazing at Bonnie's figure with unadulterated lust. I knew that they wanted her just like me. She was unattainable. They were about the same age as me, if not a little older. Hell, even my father's older workers wanted her; she just didn't realize it.

"Here are a few home truths, Judge-y. The men in this house that aren't my brother or my father want you. If it weren't for me, the man that you're so hell-bent on hating, you would be their bitch. You talk a good game. You do. But do you seriously think that you could take on fifty of these men by yourself?" I asked, rhetorically. At her silence, I continued, "No, you can't. They'd probably try to rape you. I know that I'm not a saint, but I would _never_ try to do that to you. I may have a small conscience, but it's enough to know not to hurt you or any woman for that matter. Well, maybe my soon-to-be-ex-wife, but no one else. I've done some questionable things in my time, but I'm all you've got."

Her fist came flying out of nowhere as it connected with my chiseled jaw. My head snapped to the side. I paused before I brought my hand to my mouth and discovered blood. Slowly, I licked the blood up and looked at Bonnie. Time to go in for the kill.

"You're wrong! I have—"

I cut her off, "Who do you have? Alaric? Meredith? Please, you don't think that I didn't know about you're Kung Fu tag team?" Her stunned face said it all, "Please, give me some credit here. You don't think I know what goes on right under my own roof? Goes to show how little you know. Alaric is my best friend. Let's call it a _bromance _if you will. I'm going to be the best man at his wedding to the lovely, Meredith Suelez, or Fell; whatever she calls herself these days. You thought that you were going to take out my family? By yourself? You've got some balls." I chuckled as I moved towards my liquor cabinet to pour myself a shot of Jack, "I had them look out for you. And let me guess, they fed you some sob story about how mean and evil those Salvatore men are? Those stories? Made up, per my genius. I gave you friends. Someone you could relate to. Now you've gone and pissed me off. You can't destroy us. We're basically invincible," I said with venom coating my words. I was breaking her, and I felt nothing but satisfaction and little remorse.

My heart nearly shattered when I saw Bonnie collapse on her knees in front of me; head bent and tears streaming down her cheeks. I couldn't see her face due to her hair falling in front of her like a curtain shielding me from her. Just because I couldn't see, didn't mean that I couldn't tell.

_I'm sorry_, I wanted to say, but if I had, that would show weakness and I couldn't have that.

_**Bonnie. **_

So many thoughts were coursing threw my mind at Damon's 'home truths.' Everything that I thought was true was nothing but a lie. What was the truth anymore? Was I even real? Was my mother even murdered? Who were the bad guys? Was I a bad guy?

As much as I hated to admit it, Damon was right. I wasn't invincible. I couldn't take on a whole mafia family on by myself. That meant that I was only going to get myself killed and my mother's death would have been in vain. I had to be smart about this. I didn't even know what to think anymore. Here I thought I was good, but I wasn't even considered a threat. I've killed one man. One. And his death wasn't even a big deal. No one cared. I had to play it safe from now on.

I was alone.

Damon was right… again.

I was running on nothing but vengeance and hatred and anger, there was nothing left of _Bonnie_. At that thought, I felt a tear slide down my face. What if things would have been different? What if my family wasn't apart of this lifestyle? Would I have grown up with two parents? Had a normal lifestyle? Somehow, I doubt that. What was my dysfunction? Did I even have a family?

All of the sudden, Damon's voice interrupted my thoughts, "Just because I talked you off a ledge doesn't mean that you're not still a pain in my ass. I just don't want you to think that I will be there to save you all the time." He said, as he downed his glass of whatever.

I didn't know what Damon felt about me. I mean I realize that he wanted to sleep with me… again, but was that as far as his 'affections' ran? Hell, I didn't even know what I felt about him. I knew that I didn't hate him; he was as much a pain in the ass to me as I am to him. What was his angle here? I've already had sex with him, so why does he even bother?

"Try saving me the first time and then we'll have something to talk about," I snapped before I even fully comprehended what I said.

"Touché," he agreed as he held his glass up in a mock toast gesture.

"Are you the bad guy?" I questioned.

"You ask a lot of questions."

I ignored him, "Are you?" Damon sighed as he moved to put his glass down on the table. As he was about to place his glass down, he looked at the broken coffee table that I had destroyed with his wife's face and sighed as he put it on another surface. I smirked at the thought.

"Depends on who you ask. To us, we're the good guys, because just like everyone else we're trying to protect those who try to hurt our family. To others, we're the bad guys because we're trying to do the same things to them."

"So it depends on your perspective?" I inquired.

"Yes," he answered as he took a sip.

"Am I apart of your family?" As soon as I asked that question, he began choking on his drink.

"What?" he gasped.

"I said: Am I apart of your family?" He stayed silent. Almost like he didn't know how to answer the question. "Let's get a few things straight. I don't like you. I don't like the situation that I've been thrown into. I just need to know."

"As far as everyone knows, you're my mistress, that doesn't change how I see you or how you see me. But to everyone on the outside of our 'bubble'" he air quoted, "they see 'mistress' and to them, that means that you are apart of this family because you're mine."

"But I'm not yours. I'm not a possession."

"Try telling them that, Judge-y. For all intents and purposes, you are mine, whether you like it or not. If you deny that to anyone but me, then they'll see you as fair game or a threat. So it my be in your best interest to play along."

"You're delusional."

"Maybe. But I'm all you've got."

And there he is, being right again.

Damn him.

_**A/N: And there's your turning point between the two. This story is far from being over and to be honest, I have no idea how it's going to end. Sorry about Damon being… well, Damon-y. I kind of felt bad for Bonnie when I wrote this part! How were the Alaric/ Meredith twists? Read, review, and give me some ideas! Gracias! **_


	11. Secrets

**Tell me what you want to hear**

**Something that will light those ears**

**Sick of all the insincere**

**So I'm gonna give all my secrets away**

**-OneRepublic **

_**Bonnie.**_

__After the scene with Damon, I retreated back to my quarters in a haze. Everything Damon said to me was the truth. I went out of my way to blame someone. I can't completely justify the way that I act and I know that I was nothing but a pain in his ass. All I was was an angry, mean, bitch. I can say it. I'm not deluded into thinking that I was the poster child for being 'Miss Happy Go Lucky.' Come to think of it, I can't even remember the last time I was truly happy or even cracked a smile at least. All of the work that I thought I was doing to bring my mother's killer to justice was wasted. I can't do shit!

When that thought crossed my mind, I couldn't help but cry. I fell to my knees and cried through the pain of the last twelve years of my life. All gone. And now, I was truly alone. I didn't even know what to do with my life and according to Damon the Salvatores were getting revenge for my mother's death. I don't know how though. He was married to the daughter of the man that murdered my mother in cold blood. A marriage was a concreted union and somewhat of an immunity on both of the families. It was the mob equivalent to pirates and their parlay. We all knew that Alana wasn't going to sign those papers if that meant that she was putting her family in danger after spilling the beans of who actually killed Mom.

I knew that once Alana got home to her precious 'Daddy' that she was going to fabricate the truth of what happened in the house. I don't know what to do. It's like what I say doesn't matter, and it doesn't. I'm just the mistress; the lowest of the low. I've never felt so trapped in my entire life.

All of the sudden a knocking at my door caught my attention and jolted me out of my self-induced loathing hole. Quickly, I brushed the tears away from my eyes and straightened out my clothes and hair before I opened the door. After today I didn't think that anything could get worse. When I opened the door, it got a hell of a lot worse. Standing on the other side of the door was none other than my father.

"Hello Bonnie, do you mind if I come in?" he said with a light smile.

_**Damon. **_

__I had to do something. Even though Bonnie had been fighting me every step of the way, she needed to realize that the path she was going on would destroy her. I've been there, done that, bought the T-shirt. It's hell when someone you love so much is ripped away the harshest way possible. It ands you in a dark place, and some don't make it out and they end up killing a little bit of their soul in the process. I wouldn't let that happen to her no matter how pissed off I was at her. She was homicidal; a quiet, calculating, tactful, woman. Those were the ones that you always have to watch out for. What Bonnie needed, wasn't me. We had sex once, and granted it was probably the best sex either one of us had ever had in the history of… ever! But sex doesn't equal love, trust, or happiness. It was a bit of cold comfort on both our parts, I admit it. I've spent the last year trying with her, but nothing gets through to her. I needed something, or someone to put a shock to her system. I know from experience, that hearing the same shit, different days gets boring and you begin to not give a damn what anybody has to say. Me lecturing her gets boring and trite. I kind of found it ironic that I was the one piecing her life back together, and I was the insane, bipolar freak. Hmm…

Being bipolar wasn't fun. People do joke about it or say it flippantly like: 'OMG he's like soooooo bipolar.' It's a struggle. All of the drugs that I take to keep me on this plain of existence and therapy, all while running a portion of the mob—it takes a toll on me and my sanity. The fact that I was the one thinking clearly when Bonnie wasn't treated for any type of manic depression was a scary thought. I know that Bonnie wasn't crazy. She was just violent, malicious, and quick witted. I guess that's why I liked her so much. She was my equivalent in almost every sense of the term. You know, minus the fact that she's not crazy (as far as I know). What I do know is that when I'm near her, my sex drive goes up tenfold. Can't help it and I can't tell if it was the bipolar disorder talking, or pure Damon horniness. Either way, I wasn't complaining.

The cool thing about being diagnosed as bipolar meant that everything you do can be excused. No matter how reckless or stupid, people usually just say: 'Oh it was the bipolar talking, ignore his actions. I apologize for his behavior.' A smirk lit up my face as I thought this through. So far tonight I was feeling completely fine, except for my long -winded speech that I dealt Bonnie, but that was beside the point. I'm thinking clearly, and I knew what I had to do. Reaching for the phone, I dialed a number as I surveyed the mess that Bonnie left in her wake.

I called the one person that could put Bonnie's ass in line. God, she's going to be pissed when she finds out that she's been lied to… again.

_**Bonnie.**_

__"Liam? What are you doing here? I thought you were in Europe**," **I spoke rapidly. I haven't seen my father since he dropped me off in this hellhole. Not exactly the best move to win the 'Father of the Year' award. I looked back at the man that I once called, 'dad' and glared at him through narrowed eyes. He thought he could just waltz in here after a year of not contacting me, and act as if everything was _all right_? Who the hell did he think he was?

"Yes, I had a temporary stay in London before I was summoned back here to deal with your bullshit. What's going on with you Bonnie?"

"You wanna know what's going on with me? Why do you suddenly care?"

"Because you're my daughter, and believe it or not Bonnie, I do love you."

"Bullshit! If you cared, you wouldn't have sold me out to the Salvatores or let Mom die! All you care about is yourself! You don't love me! I hate you!" I screamed. As soon as those words tumbled out of my mouth like word vomit, Liam's eyes grew dark and his demeanor shifted from loving father to ruthless killer. I had seen this look many times with my sperm donor, but never once did I think that it would be directed towards me.

"You're going to sit your ass down and you're going to listen to what I have to say! Do you understand?" Too stunned for words, I simply nodded and sat down on my king sized bed. "Would you like to know the real reason why I was in London?" At my nod, he continued. "Alessandro Santorini was getting close to something of ours that was located there. For the last few years, the Santorini, Salvatore and Davenport family has had a sort of truce. That truce was broken between our family and the Santorini, because of his betrayal. You see, he did try to kill your mother because she held something near and dear to him and was planning to out him to the police of his misgivings. Alessandro had a nasty habit of evading taxes and an even greater history of being an art thief. He's never been caught. Your mother had acquired this information and was going to turn him into the police."

"So what if she did? He would've gone down."

"Therein lies the problem. If he would have gone down, so would all of us. That's over two hundred people, plus, Bonnie. We'd all be in jail for life. Not only that we were going to be put there for drugs, trafficking and anything else those pigs could find on us. When word got around of her intentions, Alessandro acted. He put a hit on your mother."

"That still doesn't explain why you were in London," I stated, confusedly. I watched as Liam ran his hand down his face and through his hair. All of the sudden he looked much older; like a man that has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"We notified the FBI about his intentions, but Alessandro is a sneaky bastard. He made it look like nothing had happened. It was like a blank slate. And without anything tangible, or to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that he was the ringleader in this scam, he couldn't go to prison. We've been trying to bust him for nine years, that's why I was in London. The one person that still has his old information has been saving it for the right moment…. I don't know how to tell you this, but you're mother… she's alive, Bonnie. That's who I went to see."

I couldn't remember when my brain shutdown. Was it before or after my father told me that my mother, _my __**mother**_ has been alive for the last twelve years while I was trying to avenge her? Are you f*cking kidding me? Everything I've done, all the blood that I've spilt. All of the pain I've felt was for nothing? You've got to be kidding me!

Silently, I moved away from my father and stood looking blankly at the cream colored walls. And before I knew it, I had my hands gripped around the back of a chair and I threw it at a wall before I went on a rampage. I everything I put my hands on was fair game and was most likely going to be demolished. All I could feel was anger, pain, sadness, and that was before the torrents of tears made their way down my face. God! All the things I did! The things I said! The people I hurt! It was all made in vain! My mother was alive and kicking and I didn't know a _**damn **_thing about it! For the last twelve years my mother has been kept from me like a dirty, little, secret!

Anguish.

That was a word to sum up how shitty I felt.

I fell to my knees and cried. And cried. And cried some more. Some time during my breakdown, I could feel my father's arms wrap around me, whispering soothing words into my ear. As much as I wanted to hate him, I couldn't. I just wanted my dad to hold me and tell me everything was going to be all right. So I just held onto him tighter and continued to cry. I wanted him to tell me that we were going to be a family again. But most of all…

I just wanted my mom.

_**Damon. **_

__When I heard the crashing and banging in the room next to mine, it took everything in my power not to go over there and find out just what the hell was going on under my roof! I breathed in and out as I tried to keep myself from going insane or passing out. When forty-five minutes of crashing came to an end, I finally found myself drifting into a sleep coma.

What felt like seconds of sleep, was really about an hour. I woke up to a soft tapping at my door. Ha! `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -Only this, and nothing more.' God, I really was insane! Quoting Edgar Allen Poe in the middle of the night, yeah, my mind is officially lost.

Just as I was about to tell whomever it was to get lost, a soft voice stopped me.

"Damon? Can I come in? I need to talk to you," said Bonnie's voice through the door.

"Yeah, come in," I grumbled. Slowly the door creaked open and the hall light outlined Bonnie's figure. Once inside, she turned around to close the door quietly, before she turned to stand before me. The girl in front of me wasn't the girl that I've spent the last year trying to get to know. Instead, this girl seemed small, fragile, and insecure. What the HELL did Liam do?

"So, what I can I do for you?" I asked as I sat up and propped my hands behind my head. A smirk grew on my face when I caught Bonnie appraising my alabaster chest. "Bonnie, Bonnie, Bonnie, has anyone ever told you that staring's rude?" I teased.

"S-sorry," she stuttered. I cocked my brow. Bonnie never stuttered… I wanted to know what was happening inside that crazed mind of hers.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Sit down," I instructed as I patted my bed as an invitation for her to sit. "What do you want to talk about, Judge-y?"

"I wanted to say… thank you." _What?_ "I really appreciate what you did by bringing my father here. I mean, don't get me wrong, I was pissed when I found my father standing on the other side of my door a day later, but what you did really helped. So thank you."

"You're welcome. You know I'd do anything to make you happy. Or tone down your crazy."

"I get that. I just appreciate you, and I'm sorry for being the biggest bitch to you. I wish I could take it back. You were just trying to make this whole ordeal bearable."

"Um… not that I'm questioning your motives or anything, but why are you being 'nice' all of the sudden? Am I missing something?" I inquired.

"Did you know that my mom was alive?" she asked. My jaw dropped. Abby was alive? Why didn't I know? "Judging by the look on your face, I bet you didn't know. Yeah, she's alive and living in London of all places."

"I can't begin to fathom how you feel."

"Betrayed. I feel foolish. And I feel like I've wasted my life on something that wasn't real."

"It was real to you, Bonnie. Sure, your anger was misplaced and your violence streak rivaled my own, but you were hurting and you didn't know who to turn to."

"Thank you," she whispered as she leaned forward to hug me. As she pulled back from the tender hug, I caught her eye and it felt like the world had stopped and all there was were Bonnie and me. Slowly, I leaned forward and looked into her jade colored eyes for confirmation that she wanted me to kiss her as much as I wanted her to do with me. I saw the answer in her eyes, and I placed my lips over her and we were lost—or at least, I was. The feelings she evoked in me paled in comparison to how I felt with my ex. Our tongues dueled for dominance while our hands explored each other like a sensuous dance. Her fingertips ran over my bicep as I used my left hand to cup her lower back in effort to pull her closer.

We stayed in this position for what felt like hours instead of minutes. Then she pulled back and looked at me in wonderment.

"What?" I gasped.

"I didn't come here to have sex, so sorry if I disappointed you."

"You could never disappoint me," I assured her.

"We need to talk."

"Uh oh, nothing good ever comes from those words," I teased, but I felt an unsettling feeling in my chest.

"When I talked to my dad, some things were brought to light. I don't know how to be happy anymore. Isn't that sad? I can't even remember the last time I laughed and it didn't sound fake. All of those years I was just so angry. Talking to my dad made me realize that I need help. Professional help."

"Well, I can hire my therapist to help you work through your problems. I mean, if she can deal with a guy who has bipolar disorder, then she can surely work with someone who has manic depression."

"That's the thing, Damon. I need to sort this out for myself. I need to figure out who 'Bonnie' is. I held onto so much rage that I couldn't feel anything else. I'm a mess, Damon."

"But you're my mess."

Bonnie sent me a sad smile. I've never seen her smile before, but the fact that the first and only smile I got to see from her was sad. My heart wrenched at the thought of her hurting, and the fact that I couldn't do anything to help her made me feel weak.

"I'm going to London with my dad so I can see my mom." _Oh._

"When do we leave?"

"I'm going by myself. I leave tomorrow night," Bonnie whispered, not looking at me.

"Oh… how long will you be gone?" I asked.

"I don't know. Could be a few weeks, to a few years?"

"Years! You've gotta be kidding me! You can't leave me for years! You can't do this to me Bonnie."

"I'm not doing this _to _you, Damon, I'm doing this _for _me. I need help, and I need my family. We did everything backwards. I hated you. I slept with you. I threw hissy fits. I'm not the kind of girl that's worthy of your love. When I come back. I want to do this right."

"Bonnie—"

"Do you love me?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation.

"Then you'll let me go, even if it's just for a little while. I promise to come back to you."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Bonnie."

"I don't. I don't know how it happened, or when, but what I do know, is that I _am_ yours. You found me."

I paused. It felt like my whole world was crashing all around me. The girl that I've been in love with since I was a _kid_ was disappearing. I knew that I was being insecure and selfish, but I just got her… and now she was being taken away.

"I'll support whatever you do, just come back to me. Please."

"I promise." A beat. "Damon?"

"Yes?" I mumbled.

"Can you just hold me tonight?" I nodded and flipped my covers back and allowed her to slip under them with me. She snuggled into the fresh sheets and began to lie down. I reached my arm over her stomach and pulled her back towards me and placed my chin in the gap between her shoulder and neck and trailed light kisses along her neck.

"I do love you," I whispered.

"I know."

X*X*X

When I woke up the next morning, I didn't see Bonnie in my arms. Was it a dream? No, I could still smell her scent all over the sheets along with a sheet of paper lying on the pillow she slept on from the night before. It read:

_Damon,_

_ I'm sorry that I didn't wake you up, but you wouldn't have let me go and I would have let you keep me here. It's not healthy and I'm not healthy. I'm a mess. I will stay true to my word. Not only am I going to be a better person for me, but I will also be the woman that you need in your life. Don't be mad, I know you and you know you. I'll miss you too. God, these teardrops are all the indication that I will and it breaks my heart to leave. _

_ I'm sorry, Damon._

_ All my love,_

_ Bonnie._

**Goodbye to you**

**Goodbye to everything I thought I knew**

**You were the one I loved**

**The one thing that I tried to hold on to**

**-Michelle Branch **

_**A/N: Hey again! Normally I don't do song lyrics in my songs, but I felt that these were way appropriate. I'm not going to lie; I got emotional when I wrote this chapter. On the upside, this was the turning point for BAMON. Yeah! R&R with reviews and suggestions. **__**MWAH!**_

_**PS: Sorry for any errors. Totally mine!**_


	12. What?

_**One year later…**_

_**Damon. **_

__I sat beside myself staring into the flames in my fireplace as they danced along to a rhythm of their own. My only company was my glass of bourbon in my right hand, and _'Call of the Wild'_ by Jack London in my left, and a dead body of some nameless woman at my bedside with blood trickling out of her chest. It was a sloppy kill; that I won't deny, she was actually decent after she stopped all of her writhing and crying and moaning. A part of me felt remorse for my actions, but the other part of me, the demonic part of me NEEDED the needed to hurt someone. It's been a year since Bonnie's departure and I've begun to miss her even more, day after day since she's been gone. In the time she's been away from me, I've sunken deeper into my depression. I've thrown myself into 'work' killing anyone who's crossed my family or me. I wanted to cause someone pain, and what better way to do that than work for the mob. Bonnie being away has done _wonders_ for me, sometimes I amaze myself at how quickly I adapt to situations.

And so our story begins… again

How does that explain the dead woman in my bed, you ask? Well, let me tell you. Bonnie has her way of dealing with things, and so do I. You see: Bonnie left me a year ago today… with a note, and no further contact. I've tried sending my best spies to spy on her and report back to me on whether she was safe or not. And those bastards came up with nothing. Not even a follicle of hair from her pretty, brown head. It was like she disappeared off of the face of the planet. The dead woman in my bed, however, deserved anything and everything that was coming at her. This little bitch, Aimee-or whatever her name was. She was hired by my ex-wife's father to kill me. Seduce me, and then plunge a knife into my 'undead' heart.

Always, the drama queen, my ex was. That's right, Ex-wife. I made a promise to Bonnie that she was the only woman in the world for me. I was granted my divorce and I didn't have to pay Alana a dime. Lucky me. Alana, on the other hand, was furious. Furious that I divorced her, like she was some unattainable woman that everyone wanted. Furious that I left her ass broke. As well as furious that I left her for my absentee mistress who has run amuck. It was safe to say that she was angry, but these hits and bounties that she had on my head were becoming ridiculous! It was a break up, deal with it. I'm no longer her bitch. So far, she wasn't successful. This woman was the fifth female assassin I've killed, and the twentieth that's been on my own, personal, hit list.

Bonnie was the reason for all of this anger and jealousy that Alana has always harbored. It wasn't any of the exchanges that they have had with each other that started this reign of tyranny over my young life. She'd always known of my feelings for Bonnie. Feelings like that don't just go away. Truth be told, my ex- wife was always a jealous bitch. That was one of the things that I hated most about her. Even when we weren't officially dating and just screwing around she was still possessive. She hated it when I talked to women without her _permission_. I was Damon Salvatore, I didn't need permission; least of all from some chick that wasn't even my girlfriend.

The day we were betrothed to each other was the happiest day of her life, and the worst day of mine. Sure, Alana and I had great sex, but that was all it was, sex. Those vows that the priest told me to repeat were all lies. I was forced into this marriage. But I was happy about one thing… I got out. My family didn't control me, and they weren't the ones who had to deal with the repercussions. They had known that I was in love with Bonnie, yet they still coerced me into it. No more. I wouldn't be their puppet any longer.

So I divorced her.

My mother was furious. Alana had become the daughter that she had always wanted. She was Italian. She was respectful (in her presence). And they got along great. I think the main reason they did was because they were so much alike; it was pretty damn scary. They were strong willed women who weren't used to being told no. They had both grown up with silver spoons firmly implanted in their mouths, so much so, that a professional surgeon would have to wrench it out. Mother had ranted and raved about my decision. I blatantly told her that this was _my _marriage, and she is to stay out of my affairs. She countered with, 'I didn't care about her,' speeches and the fact that I was 'breaking her heart.' Ugh, my mother, thinking that everything revolved around her. Then she brought in the big guns. She told me that if I were to do this to my… _wife_ then she would disown me.

The funny thing about that…is that she nor my ex had ever _owned _me.

Here I was, nine months after that ordeal, dreading my encounter with another hired gun. I knew that my mother was aiding the Santorini family in their crusade against me for going back on my word and disgracing their family and ours. My father, on the other hand, knew of my mother's 'extracurricular activities,' and found her desperate. We had discovered that she wasn't as innocent as she claimed to be. It seems that my _darling _mother had a case of adultery. She, and my ex-wife's father, Alessandro were having an affair. Though, my mother didn't believe in divorce, it looked like she believed in affairs.

That brings me to the present, lying here, in my bed with an assassin, whom of which, I had already killed. I missed Bonnie. I'm not going to lie. And I knew that she had to fix herself. I just wished that she would walk through that door and say—

"Hi, honey. I'm home."

I looked of from the flames and turned towards the door to look at the intruder. And there she was, standing in all her glory, with a small smile on her face.

Bonnie.

Well damn. Maybe I should have wished sooner.

_**Bonnie.**_

It had been a year since I had last seen Damon. Moving to London was hard on him; I know that. I couldn't bear to see his face when I left him. The coward's way out, I know that too, but if I had seen the look on his face when he told me not to go, I would have stayed for him. In my heart, I knew that I had to be a woman that he could love—who deserved to have his love. I don't want to use him. The relationship that Damon and I had was… toxic, to say the least. When he admitted that he loved me, I didn't know how to react. I used to wonder how? How could he? I felt like I was un-lovable. From my point of view, my father was never around—never told me that he loved me. And my mother… after finding out that she's been in hiding for the last years of my life without any contact whatsoever. She was hiding from me. Never did she even _think_ to contact her only daughter. I mean, was I that deficient? If not, how did he find it in his heart to love me? I remember that he said that he's felt like this since he was eleven. I can't believe that. He felt so strongly for me at that age?

It's been a year since that happened. Since I left the one guy that I thought that I could possibly have feelings for. Like I told Damon, we did everything ass-backwards. I mean, first I hated him, then I used him, then he told me he loved me, and then I left. Bitch move, I know. I'm Bonnie the Bitch. I wanted to come here to clean all of the skeletons out of my closet.

Meeting my mom again, was the most… exciting? Terrifying? Happiest? Angriest? It was definitely the weirdest time of my life. I was still wary of her. I didn't know what to think. It was hard for me to call her 'Mom.' I think I was living in a fantasy world of what my mother was. Meeting her diminished that. It killed that fantasy of my mother being some victim/ martyr in some mob war. For the time being, I had taken to calling her 'Abby.' Of course, she wasn't happy about that and neither was Liam. To me, they didn't have the right to be called my parents. Neither of them was around for any part of my life. Parents raise their kids. _They _skipped out on me. Knowing that my whole life and the blood on my hands was all for nothing, made me feel like a hypocrite. I was pathetic.

They told me what happened with Santorini. They were going to take him down, and now they wanted to let me in on this and basically send me to the wolves.

Since then, everything was strained with us. We've had a restricted relationship. There are certain things that I can do and can't do when I'm with them. They weren't parents by a long shot. Living with them was strained and I knew that I had to get out of here. So, I grabbed a plane ticket back to Mystic Falls, and left. I know, I have a history of running away but I wanted to be somewhere that made me feel safe.

Even though I didn't want to admit it aloud, I was playing 'happy families' with these strangers. I've come to terms with what has happened to y family and me, and I realized that we didn't belong together as a family. My mother, she cared for me in her own way, I suppose. She couldn't believe how I had grown in the years of my life. Yeah, that's what happens when you've missed out on the twelve years of a child's life. Then there was Jamie—her adoptive son. I felt betrayed. It was like she traded me in for a newer, more male, model. I was a pawn in whatever war they were fighting.

So I left, and I went to the one place that I've ever felt safe… with Damon.

Here I was, a year later standing at his doorway. Questions kept running through my mind. Questions like, 'has he moved on?' 'Will he still want me?' Then other parts say, 'of course he'd still want me.' 'He's waited years for me, he could wait one more.'

'_Come on, Bonnie, open the door.' _When I did, I opened with the most clichéd line in the history of clichéd lines.

"Hi honey, I'm home." Oh my God, ran through my mind when I saw the dead body lying in Damon's bed.

X*X*X*X*

_**Damon. **_

It was either a miracle or a hallucination… or probably the fact that I was still drunk from the night before. Looking at her, being here in front of me, I was leaning more towards the hallucination side of the spectrum. When her face turned to a look of disgust as she gazed upon the dead body lying in my bed, I knew it was she. Bonnie, my Bonnie, came back to me like she said she would.

Shakily, I stood on my feet and went to her. As I stood in front of her, I admired her murky green eyes and her bow shaped mouth. Hesitantly, I placed my hand on her cheek as light as a feather. Slowly, I brushed my thumb over her lips and leaned in closer to brush my mouth against hers. My heart leapt when she responded. This kiss wasn't like any of our others. This one had no fear, no hate, no lust… okay, maybe a little bit of lust (a lot). Everything was heightened in that moment. It felt like our lips were dancing an intimate tango. Her body propelled backwards when I shoved her against the wall in order to get closer to her. Her legs scissored behind my legs in order to use it a platform to elevate herself. Bonnie's fingertips raked through my hair as she kissed me urgently. I, in turn, ground myself against her.

Bonnie pulled back, "Did you miss me?" she asked through her lust -induced haze.

"More than you could ever know," I asked before kissing her again. Once more, she pulled away.

"Why is there a dead body in your bed?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, as she looked over my shoulder to the girl lying motionlessly over my king sized bed. I followed her gaze before I looked back at her.

"Oh, her?" I said nonchalantly, "She's one of the latest assassins that my ex-wife and mother keeps sending after me."

"What?"

_**A/N: Here's an update! Work has kept me busy, and I'm trying so hard to find time to not be tired enough to write and update! Hopefully you liked the brief reunion between the two of them. As always, R&R.**_


	13. Bullets & Reunions

_**Bonnie.**_

I stayed silent for minutes on end, giving Damon a blank look. When he announced oh-so nonchalantly that his mother has a hit on him was the biggest blow to my system. When I intended to come back to this Godforsaken place, I knew that things between the two of us wouldn't automatically be fixed over night. I mean, Damon and I didn't have a conventional start to our relationship. To be frank, our relationship sucked I absolutely, positively despised him, and life in general. I thought that he was the biggest egomaniac that I had ever had the misfortune of meeting in my entire life. He was an asshole who didn't know when to keep his mouth shut and he didn't know when to keep his distance. He put me in my pace when I least expected it. And after everything… every fight, every degrading thing said, every kiss, and I _**still**_ managed to almost fall in like with that arrogant son of a bitch.

After everything that he's done, including basically trafficking me from my own father, and I still couldn't help but feel like this—everything—was my fault. I hated Damon and I loved him at the same time. I hoped to myself that I wouldn't end up like my mother; trapped into this never ending cycle of pain, misery, and death, all for a man that I thought I loved. I refused to be used as collateral in this messed up system that the mafia has going for them.

Seeing my mother alive and well made me… mad. It made me feel like everything I stood for was a lie. I held so much hate and resentment for an illogical cause. I wanted vengeance for the helpless soul that ended her life. I felt like my life meant nothing. I was lost. Lied to. And betrayed.

What else could I do? Run? I was done with running. I ran from everything instead of facing my problems head on because I was numb. I cut off my humanity, and turned myself into a walking, talking, emotionless, killing machine.

I knew my father loved me… I think he did. On some level he did. 'Til this day I'm not sure how my father feels about me. I knew that my mother loved me too—just not enough. And Damon… I still felt like he loved the idea of me—of having the most unattainable person _finally_ submitting to you. He must've basked in the glory.

So, why was I going back to him? Was it because I didn't have anywhere else to go? No, it was because, despite everything, I felt safe with him. He defied his mother and his… _wife_ for me. I would _never_ condone adultery, and I was furious with him when I discovered that I was the _'other woman' _in this scenario and it was a definite 'War of the Worlds' when it came to this bad vs. good struggle. Who was good and who was bad?

When Damon announced that his mother was trying to kill him, I didn't know how to respond to that. I thought Italians were all about 'family' and 'you never turn against your own.' I guess not. I don't even know how to react to that. I knew that his mother wasn't exactly fond of me despite the fact that I was his mistress, and if she wanted to point fingers, she should seriously consider pointing them at her son. I didn't know that he was married, because his dumbass failed to mention that. I couldn't believe that I was involved with a married man!

Even after a year of analyzing almost every aspect of my relationship with Damon and I still don't know where **I** stand with him. I don't trust easily, and love is even harder. I want to trust him, but my head and my heart won't let me do that. I feel that if Damon and I were to be more than… whatever the hell it is we are, then we'd destroyed each other completely. We would burn and consume each other in the throes of passion and all consuming angst, which we wouldn't be able to do nothing but burn out until there was nothing left of either one of us. Was I really ready to take that chance with him? If there was one thing that I was absolutely, positively sure of, I know that Damon has my back with whatever comes our way.

___"What?"_ I shrieked. Damon's mother was trying to kill him? This wasn't _exactly _how I pictured our reunion to go. To be truthful, I expected it to be a little more romantic; we'd share a passionate kiss or five and then proceed to make love on his king sized bed next to the fire place, but I've learned not expect the greatest things when concerning Damon or anything revolving him.

"Close your mouth Bonnie, or you'll attract flies," he smirked before walking away from me and towards his live in bar. Though his back was toward me, I could see the tenseness of his muscles and the slight shake of his hand as he poured a glass of his preferred beverage. "What're you doing here?"

"I stopped to smell the roses, what do you think?" I sniped back.

"That's not an answer," he replied, turning back to me, "You've been gone for a year, Bonnie, a _year_. You should answer to me, not the other way around."

"I told you from the get-go that I didn't know how long this would take. You should be happy that it took me one year instead of ten. I didn't ask you to wait for me."

"And I didn't."

Okay, ouch.

"Fine, then I'll just show my way out then," I turned to leave out of the door before I felt a hand on the crook of my arm.

"You're getting a little too good at walking away," He whispered.

"Because you're making it that much easier to do it."

"Look, I'm sorry, it's just- I can't believe you're here, just please don't leave."

"Give me one good reason for me to not walk away." I stared him down, waiting for him to stop being a dick. He kisses me, then turns into Senor Smartass and expects me to not get mad? Hell no. If he learned anything about me, then he should know that I couldn't be tethered back and forth like a volleyball. If I've done one thing right about being with Damon, I've been upfront about my emotions and feelings toward him. The problem with him was that he couldn't handle me being the defiant person that I was. Damon was glutton for punishment and I couldn't help that.

"I haven't been able to sleep," he stated solemnly.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has to do with everything, Bonnie!" He shouted, "I haven't been able to sleep because for the last _year_ that you were away from me, I couldn't. I was too worried about you to sleep."

My heart clenched. I knew that Damon loved me, but I had issues with dealing with love. I didn't know how to handle it. I couldn't wrap my head around what love was.

I sighed. "Damon—"

"You know what? Never mind. I know what you're going to say; it's the same with you. 'Oh Damon, I can't return your affections for me even though you've been harboring them forever and a day!' or 'Oh Damon, I don't know what love is!' And you know what Bonnie? I should hate you. I really, really should. And believe me, I've tried my damndest, but you know what else? I can't! You don't realize that without you, I have nothing. Not a damn thing. So spare me the sob story that you have prepared, because it's a waste of my time and your breath. I love you. Plain and simple. Deal with it however you want to, because I'm done trying to prove myself to you."

Damon's words rang true. Silently he stalked over to the fireplace and leaned his right arm on the mantle while using his left hand to bring his glass of alcohol up to his lips. Even after a year, I'm still hard hearted. I couldn't help it

"I-I'm sorry," I stuttered.

"So you keep saying," he chuckled sardonically.

_**Damon S. **_

I looked at Bonnie, and it was still as if I were looking at a ghost. I still couldn't believe that she was still physically here in front of me, looking like an angel fallen to earth. To be honest, I wasn't mad at her, I just liked guilt tripping the hell out of her. Bonnie needed to realize that she couldn't tell me what to do or that I would quiver to her every whim. Sure, she was a little screwed in the head and had daddy and mommy issues, but I've stuck by what I've said, I enjoy a challenge. Hell, loved her since I was eleven, her being gone was just a little speed bump in the ultimate goal of making her mine.

All of the sudden, I saw something appear onto the side of her head. It looked like a glowing red zit. I knew in that instance that it wasn't. Someone was looking to take Bonnie's head off of her petite shoulders. Immediately, I threw my body at her and we collided to the floor. A second after I dove at Bonnie, a whirring sound came through my window, shattering it in the process. The bullet went through the bookcase, putting a hole in one of my collections. Damn. Hesitantly, I peaked over the chair and pulled my gun from underneath the seat. Bonnie looked at me through her scared murky green eyes.

"You really have a gun under your reading chair?" she hissed in a loud whisper.

"I'm apart of the mafia, Judge-y, would you expect anything less?" I smirked before I used my other hand to reach up and cup her face from the back of her jaw and wrapped around the back of her neck. I gazed into her eyes deeply, as I watched as her face began to redden and her breath began to shorten. Before she could open her bow shaped mouth, I had covered it with my own and took her breath away. Kissing Bonnie would never get old to me. I could do it over and over again until the day I die. She deserved to be kissed every hour of everyday until we die. Hell, I'd even be satisfied with hate kisses too.

Bonnie was reluctant at first, just as I had known she would be, but as soon as she let out a sigh and parted her lips; I knew then that all bets were off. I wanted to take her here and now, but I couldn't. I grasped my calloused hand around her shapely hip and trailed it back to her lower back. Slowly, I leaned her back to the debris filled floor below us and felt her hand trail up to my bicep and caressed the hair on the nape of my neck. I hissed when her fingers trailed up my other arm. Bonnie paused as she noticed the blood on her fingertips.

"Damon, are you bleeding?" she inquired, looking down at the bloody wound.

"Yeah, son of a bitch must've grazed me when tackled you to the ground," I said, as I looked at the beautiful woman beneath me.

"Damon! You're bleeding from a gunshot wound and you think that _now _would be the perfect time to kiss me? What's wrong with you?" she yelled, getting up from her position. She walked over toward my bed, before turning back towards me. "I'm going to patch you up, but you need to get somebody to get rid of the body that's currently taking up residence in your bed."

"Jealous?"

"Hardly. Would I rather be a dead girl that you slept with or would I rather be alive?"

"You forgot the tiny fact that you've also slept with me too."

She glared.

"Do you want to bleed to death or not?"

"I love you too, Bonnie-boo," I smirked, getting up from my position on the floor. I sauntered over to the shorter girl and sat on the bed with my legs slightly open so that she could be strategically placed between them.

"First Aid Kit?" She asked.

"Bathroom."

"Take care of… her body," and without another word, she turned away from me and disappeared into my conjoining bathroom. _God, how I missed her, _I thought to myself as I reached over to my bedside table to retrieve my phone. I think it would be a huge mood killer by making love over the dead body of a girl that tried to seduce and destroy me.

Go figure.

_**Bonnie B. **_

When I stepped into the bathroom, I could finally release the breath that I had been keeping in. Being with Damon again, made me feel safe, despite the bullets that came through the window and at my head. Despite the fact that he was shot, he still kissed me just as passionately (if not more) as I remembered. He wanted to be with _me_. He wanted _me_ out of harm's way. Trust was a fragile thing to me, but he managed to worm his grimy little self into my heart. The man I used to think of, as a monster was the polar opposite. He was a big softie with a rough exterior. He was… like me. Damon only did what he knew best to protect his family. I was his family.

Clearing my throat, I grabbed the First Aid Kit and made my way back into Damon's room, only to find the body gone, and Damon spread like an eagle, clad in nothing but silk boxer shorts. The body looked like it had been long gone, and the glass from the shattered window had been cleaned up. The fire roared from its place and as I looked back at Damon, I saw a wide smirk on his face.

Rolling my eyes, I walked over to my arrogant man and stood in front of him with the kit in my hand.

"Sit up, and let me fix your arm," I said in a no nonsense tone.

"Why, is Nurse Bonnie going to patch me up?" he said, seductively.

"Yes," I replied as I moved to stand between his legs and set to work.

I didn't know where I was heading even getting this involved with Damon, but I knew that he would lay down his life for me. Whatever happens, I'm in this for the long run.

_**A/N: hey you guys! I'm oh so sorry that I haven't updated this story in a minute! School kicked my butt and on my plane back to Italy, I met a fan of my stories, and that inspired me to write again! How cool is that? Send me reviews and ideas on what I should do with the story. You guys are great! XOXOXOXO**_


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